


Shelter

by Judgement



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Drama & Romance, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Persona 5 Spoilers, Reader-Insert, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:07:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25634782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Judgement/pseuds/Judgement
Summary: Oneshots revolving around potential moments in your life as Goro Akechi's girlfriend.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Reader
Comments: 57
Kudos: 192





	1. Translation

**Author's Note:**

> Tags will be added as necessary in the future. **Spoilers for Persona 5 Royal**

When you first met the Phantom Thieves, they had all assumed you and Akechi were just friends. A false pretense of dating to help Akechi deal with the ever growing number of female fans. Especially given the way they had seen him treat and speak with you. It was just as harsh, blunt and often condescending like it was with any of the other Thieves and it was hard to see anything _romantic_ about it.

Neither of you had bothered to correct them, after all Akechi did have a lot of enemies that went beyond angry young girls who wanted to date him. The more dangerous being the cognitive world-aware enemies that could easily use you against him. Thus in public when you were both together it was at a very estranged distance for a supposed couple. And around the Phantom Thieves he just came off harsh, like he did to the others in the group. 

Perhaps had you not known Akechi for as long as and as well as you did, you would have been offended. He could be rather condescending even when answering simple questions. But, you _knew_ him, often time better than himself. And he’d even admitted that in the privacy of your shared apartment when you were alone with him.

Like almost everyone in society, you adapted to who you were around and Akechi was no different. So when the harsh words rolled off his tongue you learned very early (albeit through trial and error at the time, but you had both been young then and not even dating) that what he said couldn’t be taken at face value. So unknown to even Akechi, you’d made it your mission to ask even the most _simple_ questions that you already knew the answer to. Partly because you were playing the role of fake girlfriend who _shouldn’t_ know her ‘boyfriend’ that well. And mostly because his annoyed looks and the aghast of the Thieves provided you more amusement than you admitted aloud. 

Some of the most recent comments you made to Akechi to get under his skin went like this:  
  
“Would you like some sugar and cream for your coffee?”  
“Is Ryuji’s stupidity contagious? I think you caught it if you really had to ask.”  
_Translation: You should know by now, there’s no way you forgot.  
  
_“Perhaps we should do this instead?”   
“Don’t waste your breath if you’re only going to give shitty suggestions.”  
_Translation: You’re smarter than that. (Usually accompanied by a suspicious glare)  
  
_The problem with Akechi though was the more distressed he became, the sharper his tongue. And it had led to your current predicament, with a shadow having gotten the better of you. It hit you for your weak point and you were already banged up to begin with. But you had waved off their attempts to heal, saying you were _fine_ because you had been. You’d handled much more with ease in the past. 

Nobody in the group had expected the shadow to suddenly whip out _Inferno_ and target you specifically. You’d never done well with the heat and health conditions made you susceptible to overheating. That particular weakness had transferred to your persona. 

The inferno had hit you and it felt like it thrust your entire body into an oven. Nausea and dizziness hit before the _pain_ that felt like you were being boiled alive with blisters burning into your skin, marking your bones. It was an _awful_ pain that Akechi had done his best to make sure you never experienced. Before you had teamed up with the Thieves you both either avoided shadows who wielded fire or you provided support while he took care of them. 

Needless to say, before your vision went white with pain and the taste of copper filled your mouth, you felt like your vision had slowed. You caught the horrified look on Akechi’s face as he turned toward you, realizing only then what had just happened. Immediately you bit down on your tongue in an attempt to keep yourself from screaming, but it didn’t help because the few seconds it hit felt like an eternity. 

You cried out and the blood dripped down your chin. Gasping and panting as you stumbled back once the attack had finished, but you still _felt_ like your nerves were on fire. Your body trembled and you _knew_ you looked as bad as you felt. The clothes that matched your persona had done barely anything to prevent the fire from searing the skin beneath it. They at least hadn’t melted to your skin, a silver lining as you fell back onto your ass, completely winded.

“You piece of _SHIT!_ I’LL KILL YOU!” Akechi’s voice broke through the haze of pain to see him rushing in. Joker tag-teaming with him to back him up as he went berserk. Slashing at the shadow until there was nothing left, not even a follow-up shot from Joker required as he stood over the dissipating form of the shadow. He heaved and trembled with rage.

“Zodiac-senpai!” Kasumi’s voice is the second that broke through the ringing of pain in your ears. She dropped to her knees in front of you and her persona is out in an instant. There’s a cool sensation as she cast Diarahan on you. 

Despite being healed, it was never a.. pleasant experience. Skin that had burned to the third degree then being _reversed_ and repaired was painful. You could feel that as the tipping point, black dots danced across your vision as you choked back a pained gasp.

“What the _HELL_ was that shit?!” You glanced up, catching Akechi’s form as it towered over Futaba.

“I _told_ you I can’t see all of their skills! Only some! I didn’t know it was hiding a fire skill or I would have had them back out!” Futaba argued, though looked increasingly cowed into submission as Akechi advanced. Both Makoto and Akira stepped in to pull him off and Makoto bravely went in with everything, prepared for the verbal lash out she was about to have with him.

“S-Sorry—” Your voice came out pained. You’re surprised when Akechi immediately forgot his verbal lashing at Makoto in favor of whipping his head in your direction at the sound of your voice.

“Zodiac-senpai!?” Kasumi’s panicked cry is the last thing you heard when your entire vision went dark, caught by the girl delicately as to not agitate the slow mending wounds. 

* * *

When you woke later, it was in one of the safe rooms. The blinding light immediately hit your retinas and you groaned, bringing your arm up to block out the light.

“S-Sorry!” You distantly heard Kasumi before the lights clicked off.

You dropped your arm away from your face the moment the lights went. Blinking rapidly before struggling to sit up, you felt _exhausted._ Each limb felt like it weighed a metric ton, and it was difficult to adjust before a gentle hand was helping you into a sitting position.

“Thank you, Violet.” You breathed out in relief and she gave a strained smile of worry as she checked you over. 

“I’m fine, just tired.” You waved off her hesitant hands and gave her a tired smile before you chanced a look around the room. You had been given the only couch in the small safe room and the others sat sprawled among the chairs or standing. They all tried not to make it overly obvious they were all waiting on you.

“Sorry, was I out long?” You winced, rolling your stiff shoulders and neck.

“About ten minutes.” Akechi’s voice bit out from his spot closest to you, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the lockers. “Are you done wasting our time?” He glanced in your direction, but there was no heat behind his gaze, no anger. If there was you knew it wasn’t at you.

“That’s it!” Ryuji caught you and Kasumi both by surprise. You both jumped at his booming voice and the chair he had been sitting on screeched loudly as he shot to his feet and stomped over to Akechi. He shoved a finger into your boyfriend’s chest, looking rather angry. “I don’t care _what_ kind of agreement the two of you have going on! Could you quit being a dick to them for _five_ minutes?! They could’ve _died_ and you don’t even care!”

“What business of it is yours?!” Akechi bit back to your surprise, standing straight. You could see the subtle lines of tension as he resisted the urge to shove Ryuji out of his face.

“It’s my business because I care, unlike you! You need to quit this fake dating bullshit, you _clearly_ are too pissy being around them! Would it kill you to be a little nicer?!” Ryuji had stepped into his face, ready to start a physical fight right there. You could see Akira who was by the door take a step forward, ready to break it up if it escalated to that.

“Who said we were faking?” Akechi’s voice came out in a low hiss, tilting his head up so he stared down his nose at Ryuji who’s eyes went wide.

“For real!? That’s even _worse,_ you don’t deserve them—!”

“Enough!” You shouted, knowing Ryuji had crossed the line. Kasumi jumped at your voice, the harshness that laced it, and looked as surprised as Ryuji did to see the dour look on your face.

“I appreciate the concern but do _not_ step where you weren’t asked to.” Akechi had frozen in his spot at Ryuji’s words and you hissed out an angry breath, trying to calm your own nerves. “I would like a moment _alone_ with Akechi, please.”

The room shifted uneasily as they glanced between the two of you before Morgana finally spoke up, “C’mon guys, let’s call it a day. We’ll head back first, okay?”

You nodded at Morgana, sending him an appreciative look, which he nodded to before the group filed out. Ryuji’s angry booming voice calling Akechi a dick being the last thing either of you heard before the door shut behind them. It left you and Akechi in the dark.

“Come here,” You said after a moment.

Akechi’s face immediately tightened, screwing up in a mixture of pain and anger. Your chest ached at the sight because you knew Ryuji had hit a sore spot.

“What the _hell_ was _that?_!” He tried to hide the pain as he turned to you, looking livid. But his voice broke toward the end, and it gave him away. He slumped his shoulders, knowing it called his bluff.

“Come here,” You tried again, this time you raised both your arms up as an open invitation. 

He mustered another scathing glare at you with trembling lips and clenched fists, broken words and sounds as he _stared_ at your open arms. Battling with himself between yelling at you and caving in. Before he finally settled for the latter, taking the few steps closer and dropping to his knees between your legs. It brought him to your height as you sat on the couch and he dipped his head down, unwilling to meet your eyes.

His shoulders shook and you instantly wrapped your arms around them, pulling him into a hug and saying nothing. It’s an agonizing several minutes of strangled noises as he tried to keep a front before he gave in a second time. His own arms returned the gesture and wrapped around you, pulling you in close. His grip tightened quickly and there’s a dampness against your shoulder that you say nothing about.

You’re not sure how much time passed, your hands having combed through his hair as he cried silently into your shoulder. You were sure the others had made it to the entrance, probably hung out for a bit before deciding to leave when they saw the two of you weren’t bringing up the rear shortly.

“Yoshizawa-san said anymore and you would have died.” His voice sounded detached, like he had separated himself emotionally from that fact.

“But I didn’t.” You reminded him, and his arms tightened around you in response.

“But you _could have!”_ The anger was back and he ripped himself away. Pushed you from him so he could glare at you, unobstructed, especially since he had discarded his mask off to the side.

“And you could have died in Shido’s palace, there’s a lot of ‘could have’ in this but you didn’t and neither did I.” You lifted a hand up to run it through his hair again, to tuck some of it away from his face but his hand grabbed yours, stopping you.

“Ryuji was right I—”

“Ryuji isn’t part of this relationship and so his opinion doesn’t matter.” You kept yourself calm, knowing how insecure your boyfriend truly was. How _difficult_ it was for him to trust and how easily he pushed people away when he was afraid of being hurt. He shoved anyone away before they had the chance to on their own. You knew it well and had endured it time and time again, and this was no different.

“I will not leave you even if you leave me.” You promised, a small, tired smile on your lips.

“Why?” His face scrunched in anger.

“Because you are _everything_ to me, Akechi,” You could see the way his eyes widened a fraction. Watched as he resisted a flinch as you pressed your forehead to his and closed your eyes. No matter how many times you said it, it still took him aback and your heart ached over that fact. “That will never change, after all I woke my persona based on these feelings for you. I will sink to the lowest pits of hell if it keeps me by your side, that is _my_ justice.” Whether society approved it, the two of you had been through far too much for anyone to understand.

His lips crashed against yours, catching you off guard momentarily. But you shifted easily to cradle his face in your hands until he’s moving. Getting up to his feet as he pulled your hands away so he could cradle your face instead. The heavy kiss melted into softer ones, peppered against your lips in quiet desperation to make sure you were still _there_.

You didn’t stop him as he sat beside you or when he pulled your form into his lap so he could keep kissing. Only when the two of you broke apart, thoroughly out of breath, did you reluctantly agree to get up. Relieved to call it a day as his hand sought yours and you made your way out of the palace to your shared apartment.

The next day if anybody had realized Akechi’s usual scathing comments to you were much more subdued. Or the subtle twitch of his lips as he rolled his eyes at a comment you made, knowing you were trying to get under his skin. Or even the way he was adamant that he would be the one to watch your back. Well, they said nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll probably do a one shot about your 'codename' which you had suggested as a joke to get Akechi to laugh and I don't think anyone but maybe Makoto and/or Futaba really picked up on it but you at least got a good chuckle out of your boyfriend for it.
> 
>   
>  **As always, I don't upload these for my benefit so if you like/want to read more please leave feedback.**   
> 


	2. Last Mistake [1/2]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In your escape from Maruki's crumbling palace, you remember the final fight and how you had questioned your conviction. 
> 
> Chapter Tags: Angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote the previous oneshot after someone helpfully pointed out my deteriorating grammar, so please go back and read it if you haven't! Always appreciate the constructive criticism. This particular piece will be two parts! Hope you enjoy.

“We’re losing altitude!” 

You knelt by Futaba in the front, pressed uncomfortably close to the glass. The whole situation did nothing to ease your fear of heights, the sweat gathering beneath your palms. You were thankful you at least had gloves, but the thought that they’d slip right off your hands didn’t help.

This entire ordeal had given you mixed feelings, if you were honest with yourself. Akechi knew this was what he wanted and you wouldn’t deny him that, you couldn’t. He had made all valid points and it was so _him_ that he was fighting for his own demise. It made you sick. Because what about you? What about the two of you, everything you had?

Some sick part of you wanted so desperately to accept Maruki’s reality, and he knew it. He had sent you pleading looks during the battle in his palace; he had even called you by name and _begged_ you to join his cause. Akechi’s voice, scathing and _angry_ that you had hesitated. 

_“I know better than anyone how unfair it is.” Maruki’s eyes sought yours and you bit your lip, looking down at his feet rather than his face. “You don’t need to suffer, I can keep Akechi-kun here with you.”_

_Your fingers trembled on your mask and uncertainty welled in your gut. How were you supposed to fight him when he was promising everything you wanted? To be with Akechi again, to live with him, for him to be_ alive.

_“Don’t you dare,” Akechi snapped you from your thoughts and you jerked, glancing over at him._

_He was glaring at you, but you could see it in his eyes: a pleading of his own. You couldn’t do this to him, you knew it wasn’t right, but that didn’t stop how you felt._

_“Chi-Chimata-no-kami!” You called for your persona, willing yourself to keep fighting even as your conviction swayed. Now was not the time for cold feet._

_But as your persona manifested above you, it disappeared in a flash just as quick. Taking your outfit which had reflected it with it and putting you back into your normal outfit. A strangled gasp escaped you followed by the surprised noise of the rest of the group. They instantly tried to switch tactics to cover for you._

_“See?” Maruki’s voice sounded pained and you finally looked up to face him. “Can’t you see how this hurts her? Why would you make her struggle and fight against something she clearly wants?” He begged the group who had formed in front of you as Futaba had come up and tried to pull you to the back._

_“Please,” Maruki’s eyes found yours, “Please, I just want you to be happy.”_

_Maruki trained his eyes on Akechi, who was livid, if the way his shoulders tensed was any sign._

_“Akechi-kun, do you realize the pain she’s in? How much the thought of being without you hurts her?” He begged for Akechi to see his way._

_To your surprise, Akechi looked back toward you. An unreadable expression on his face before he was facing Maruki again._

_“You should know better than anyone,” He was looking at Maruki, but you knew his words were directed at you. “That I’m not even_ here _, that this doesn’t change what happened.”_

 _Tears blurred your vision and you sobbed because you knew he was right. Mementos was based on cognition. It could bring memories of the dead so long as those_ memories _existed, but it couldn’t bring back the dead. Akechi was gone whether or not you liked it, and you were running from that truth._

_“Don’t make me die last.”_

_Those words made you want to vomit, retching into your hand because you were denying his memory. Tarnishing what he left as everyone else was fighting. You had taken Akechi’s memory and twisted it to ease your own pain. You felt sick._

_“We should move back.” Futaba’s voice is low. Her hand had rested on your shoulder and urged you to follow her._

_But you knew what you had to do, and you were sick to your stomach that you had doubted it. That you disrespected Akechi’s memory like you had to live in your own ignorant bliss._

_“No,” Your words were strong, even if your body trembled as you willed yourself to your feet._

_The group stopped, Maruki focused on you as you took one step at a time. Past the Phantom Thieves and Akechi to stand in front of them. Maruki smiled bitterly, pitifully. It made you feel more disgusted with yourself._

_“We’re the same, I lost someone too.” He whispered._

That _. That made you laugh, sharp and dry and so_ cold _that Maruki physically recoiled at the tone._

 _“The same? You think this is the_ same? _” You laughed harder, covering your mouth even as the tears had come free. “I’m sorry, but there is_ nothing _even remotely the same. Rumi will remember you once your little effect on her is gone, she is still_ alive _and well despite what happened. Once this is over you can get on your god damned knees and_ beg _to be forgiven by her._

 _“But me?” The venom dripped off your words, you_ hated _Maruki for doing this to you, to Akechi’s memory. “I’ll_ never _forgive you.”_

_**Have you found your resolve?** _

_The words of your persona filled your head and you narrowed your eyes at Maruki, “I have.”_

_**Then now, show your rebellion for the world to see. Bend the heavens to its knees and make them feel your pain!** _

_“Come, **Ama-No-Minaka-Nushi**!” _

_The ground beneath you lit up and in an instant the clothes you wore shifted again, matching the persona that rose above you. A large sigil decorated with symbols of stars and at each cardinal and intercardinal direction rose a sword into the air. Tilted on its axis, two jagged rings held your persona afloat. One gold and glowing and the other cackled with black, electric-like energy._

_“Supernova!”_

_The two rings that circled your persona in tandem with one another, slowly rose. Turning faster the higher it went until they spun rapidly above the head of your persona. Who rose its arm in the air and then brought it down, pointing to Maruki and his persona._

_The spinning rings formed two blades that shot forth and stuck with a force that shook the palace. Like a black hole sucked in light, the entire room went dark. Making it impossible to see for a split second before it was followed up with a blinding light. Exploding from the center where it struck and expanded out. The attack destroyed all the tentacles and even dealt both Maruki and Azathoth significant damage. Left its wake of the explosion was shimmering dust that hung heavy in the air, forming what looked like a nebula in the air._

_Maruki gasped in pain, leaning on his staff as he panted once the attack had ended. He gazed at your narrowed expression and sneer on your face as you took your place beside Akechi. Akechi, who, unbeknownst to you, smiled with a forlorn look on his face._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chimata-no-Kami: Japanese Mythology for Shinto God of Crossroads. Wonder why that's your persona. :^)  
> Ama-No-Minaka-Nushi: Japanese mythology described as a "god who came into being alone" the first of the zōka sanshin ("three kami of creation"), and one of the five kotoamatsukami ("distinguished heavenly gods").
> 
> [Inspiration for your persona](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7beb573495ec489f8711090e18c2f119/39da345a53d2af65-29/s1280x1920/e81587056b7ec7cf54ccbe37fbe9c5ef9acc2021.png) came from [Riiniaaa](https://riiniaaa.tumblr.com/).
> 
>   
>  **As always, I don't upload these for my benefit so if you like/want to read more please leave feedback.**   
> 


	3. Last Mistake [2/2]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You made a decision to save the phantom thieves, to save Maruki even if your reasons were selfish. 
> 
> Chapter Tags: Angst, language, character death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags have been updated to include major character death. I recommend listening to this for extra feels-y impact. [Catastrophic - Armors](https://youtu.be/rzZywKrvOQ8)
> 
> :^)

Your head hit the glass of the helicopter and it jarred you from your thoughts of the battle earlier. A slew of curses under your breath as you put a hand to your forehead, over the mask. Preoccupied with not smacking your head a second time while squashed to the glass, you missed the look Akechi shot you. 

“Keep us _steady,_ will you!?” He sneered, clinging to the back of the seat beside you and the ceiling.

“I’m trying!” Morgana’s voice strained.

You glanced down to see what exactly was holding Morgana from getting away. A tentacle had clutched onto it and kept it from flying off. And it was with a sick sense of realization you _knew_ Joker was the type to sacrifice himself to save his teammates.

But he had people waiting for him to come home. You and Akechi only ever had each other, it was why you instantly knew that the reality Maruki had given you had been fake. Because Akechi was back, but that ache in your heart had been so real, it _was_ real. Akechi was gone and no cognition manipulation could change it. Akira had family, friends and a full life ahead of him. He had done the impossible where you and Akechi had done what you wanted. You balled your hands into fists, biting down on your lip until there was blood in your mouth. It was now or never.

You turned in your spot and looked up at Akechi, who immediately snapped his attention down to you. His eyes narrowed, 

“Don’t you dare—”

Your lips slammed to his after you’d grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him down to meet you. 

“I’ll see you on the other side.”

He snarled when you pulled away, shifting to grab onto your form before you could do something so _stupid_. 

“Grab her!” He shouted at Yusuke, who could only reach for your figure dumbly. Because you’d _leapt_ out of the helicopter with such grace it had startled him.

Only Akechi knew how terrified of heights you were. Your hands were slick with sweat and your heart plummeted into your stomach. The free falling sensation though, if you were honest, made you feel more alive than you had since Akechi had died. 

“Dammit Joker, you better fucking catch her!” Akechi shouted down and Joker immediately outstretched his hand toward you.

You smiled, and it surprised the Phantom Thief leader. Pulling yourself just out of his reach as you plummeted down toward Maruki. 

“Thank you Joker,” You flipped over so your back faced the ground as Joker gave you a pain expression. You could tell he was contemplating letting go to jump after you.

“Go home! I know I am.” If his expression was anything to go by, he understood what you meant. With reluctance he nodded once at you, adjusting his grip back onto the grappling hook. 

You pulled out the bladed tonfas, holding them in your hands as you free fell toward the tentacle holding the helicopter. Jamming it into the appendage and swinging your weight around it as you continued to fall. The further you fell, the deeper it went before the blade finally sliced through completely. 

You hit the glass shortly after, collapsing onto your knees and then hands as your arms shook. You hated heights, god did you _hate_ heights. But you had unfinished business and you _knew_ that the Phantom Thieves wouldn’t let you, so you had jumped. You jumped for Akechi’s freedom and you jumped for your chance at revenge.

“I didn’t think you would be the one to jump,” Maruki’s voice is gentle. It makes you sick with disgust.

“There’re a lot of things you don’t know about me, no matter how much you go digging.” You curled your hands into fists again, willing your limbs to cooperate as you glanced up at the councilor. 

“That’s true.. You’ve figured out how to guard yourself well, it was.. quite the surprise. Meeting so much resistance in someone’s cognition.” He gave a polite smile as if he hadn’t just admitted he went shifting through your head at one point.

You steeled your nerves and pulled yourself to your feet. Brandishing the weapons that, unlike the thieves, was as real as it was in mementos, cognition be damned. 

“Ah, you came back for revenge. For yourself or for Akechi?” He questioned softly. He was genuine, you’d give the councilor that, but you didn’t owe him shit.

“Go fuck yourself, I’m not here to talk.” 

He laughed quietly and dropped his gaze, “I won’t stop you.”

Your chest stung like someone had punched a hole through it. He _wanted_ to die. After everything, after all the suffering you had endured and fought for, he was _giving up_. Just like that. 

The glass shifted as the Palace continued to crumble around you. Stumbling a bit to catch your balance, you watched as Maruki allowed himself to fall to his knees. If you didn’t plan to kill him he would let himself die here.

Great, just _fucking_ great. What _bullshit_ was this? 

“That’s it?” Your voice laced with disbelief as you spread your arms out. You let your weapons fall as your mask disappeared off your face. “You just.. give up the moment it didn’t go your way? What happened to all your bullshit about giving up your dream if it didn’t go your way to pursue something else?”

“You don’t understand—”

“Fuck you!” You interjected, feeling the sting of tears. “Don’t give me that fucking shit! Rumi is still _alive,_ which is a lot more than I can say for Akechi!”

Maruki flinched, but you weren’t finished.

“You could have helped her recover, you could have done so much and she would probably never forget but she would have moved on! You could still _have_ her! The only thing that’s holding you back from _anything_ is you! _Your_ cowardice!”

You stormed over to him, grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer to your face. So he could see the anguish on your face, see what _actual loss_ looked like.

“I don’t get to go home and see who I want to see anymore. He’s _gone,_ whether I want it or not! And you—you are running from things you could have _fixed_ if you worked toward it.” 

You watched as a myriad of expressions danced across his face before shame tugged onto it permanently. 

“You’re right.” It was quiet, resigned. 

“Fuck you, of course I’m _right_ ,” You kept your hand clutched to his shirt. Taking careful note of the way the glass had cracked beneath both of you. “God, I came here to kill you. But that would be what you _want_ , isn’t it?”

He opened his mouth, then shut it as he looked away from you. You laughed, but it was humorless, painful. It hurt to think this was it. You would give your life to save this asshole’s just so that he could continue to _suffer_. He didn’t get to run from this.

“… Can I ask one question? Why did you fight it when you wanted to be with him so badly?” He finally turned to face you.

“You really have to ask?” You could hear the glass as it cracked beneath the two of you. Your expression softened a fraction, taking the councilor by surprise. 

“Because that wasn’t Akechi, no matter how much you tried or distorted reality, it never would be. It was a fake, brought to life by everyone’s perception of him. Nobody but Akechi can answer for him. At some point when our perception of him doesn’t know how he would react or answer, it would have been made up. It wouldn’t be _him_ answering, but what we _wanted_ or _thought_ he would answer with.”

The glass beneath the two of you shattered and the councilor’s eyes widened. He wanted to die, that didn’t mean he didn’t want _you_ to die with him. He scrambled to reach for the ledge to save the both of you. So that he could at least save _you,_ but he missed by a fraction and felt his stomach sink as the both of you fell.

“You know, I don’t actually hate you.” Your voice came quiet and surprised the councilor again when he caught the distant look on your face. His chest tightened at the sight of your pained smile and tears that had fallen. “I should thank you since you let me see him one last time.”

“What are you—” You cut him off, grabbing him and wrapping him up in your arms as you shifted so you were beneath him. Planning to take the brunt of the fall. The impact would kill you and if it didn’t, it would shatter your spine.

“No! What are you doing?!” He shouted, trying to pry your hands off of him, to shift so _he_ was taking the fall, but your grip was iron. He froze when your laughter bubbled past your lips, painful but.. free. He glanced back over his shoulder at your face to see an expression he didn’t think he would on your face.

Relief. You were _relieved_.

“Live, Maruki.” Horror filled up the councilor as you smiled at him, a split second before the impact came. Dust and debris filled the air, obscuring his vision momentarily. But he still saw the brief flash of pain, the blood that spilled from your lips before the light in your eyes had gone. Just like that. 

“N-No!” The grip you had let go on impact and he frantically moved off of you, hands trembling as he knelt at your side. Someone to his side screamed and he jerked his head up, not realizing he had been crying. People were _staring,_ and someone in the distance said that they had just crashed from the sky.

“P-Please! Somebody! Call an ambulance!” His voice broke and he reached for your hand, searching for a pulse but finding none. 

Should he preform CPR? He couldn’t stop shaking. He let go of your hand to bring both of his over your chest before he recoiled at the thought. If there was a chance of saving you, your spine had probably shattered. CPR would _ruin_ any chance at saving you if he made even one mistake.

He ran a hand through his hair, distressed. He had done this; he had wanted to save _everyone,_ but in the end he hadn’t saved a single person. He had only managed to get one _killed_. A sob ripped from his lips and he brought his hands to his face and cried into them. 

He didn’t know when the ambulance had arrived, hadn’t noticed until someone was trying to get his attention. Asking if he was hurt and he shook his head. No, you had taken the entire impact and saved his pathetic life.

“Can you save her?! Can you—” He froze, looked over to see the smile on your face right before they covered it with a white sheet. You hadn’t been smiling a moment ago. 

_Live._ He laughed as he cried, letting the EMT help him into the back of the ambulance. You were cruel, but he understood. He would return to Rumi and you? 

You would return to Akechi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **As always, I don't upload these for my benefit so if you like/want to read more please leave feedback.**  
> 


	4. Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares come and go but the two of you will be together, forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [I was listening to this](https://youtu.be/bAP2qx4Mg-E) while writing it. Doesn't necessarily fit, I don't think?? Maybe?? It's good anyway though so you should check it out.

_The familiar clink of metal made her shudder, reminded her of what was behind her. She bit her lip and brought a hand to stifle a sob._

_“LOKI!”_

With a strangled gasp, the scream died in her throat as she woke with a start. The heavy thumping of her heart pounded against her ears, drowning out the noise of rain as she looked around. Wild, disorientated gaze glanced back and forth before everything came rushing back. She shivered and trembled, partially from the nightmare and partially from the stale sweat she woke drenched in. Her hand clutched the chest of her shirt as she tried to reel back in from the nightmare. A familiar one, but one that she hadn’t had in a very long time. 

Something shifted beside her, reminding her that she wasn’t alone. Sucking in a sharp breath and glanced over to Akechi, who turned over in his sleep. A furrowed brow and pursed lips from whatever he was dreaming about. He shoved a hand beneath the pillow his head rested on before his expression relaxed. 

With sleep being the furthest thing from her mind after that, she raked a hand through her hair before deciding to get up. When she glanced at the clock on the nightstand, it told her it was only two in the morning. It was Christmas Eve and neither of them had anywhere to be. She made him promise he would take both Christmas Eve and the day off, and to her surprise, he had. 

Now she just felt guilty over it. The nightmare never failed to depress her and she bit her lip in thought. Tugged the blanket off her legs and let them hang over the edge of the bed. It wasn’t so much of a nightmare, was it? More like a distant memory she tried her best to forget and pretend it wasn’t a memory. It was easier to say it was a nightmare than to confront the memory. 

Dropping her head with shoulders hunched, she stared down at her toes. Wiggled and flexed them as her fingers dug into the edge of the mattress. If she got up now she could shower and maybe make some hot chocolate for herself, to stem her nerves. And then once it got a little later into the morning, she could surprise her boyfriend with breakfast—

A hand against her back and she stifled a gasp, going rigid as her head snapped up. 

“Why’re you up?” Akechi slurred tiredly. If he had noticed that he scared the wits out of her, he said nothing. Opting instead to wrap his arms around her. Tugged her back against his chest and pulled her back down on the bed. 

“M’sweaty and gross,” She reached back and pressed her hand to his face that had tried to tuck itself into her shoulder. “I was gonna shower.”

Akechi scowled at the hand against his face, slinking his other arm around her. He grabbed both her arms and pulled them back to her front and away from his face. Which he shoved back into her shoulder as he spooned her, curling around her smaller frame. 

“Mm, don’t care.” Too bad, so sad. He couldn’t find it in himself to care. She hadn’t gotten up quick enough and from where he had been lying, it didn’t look like she would get up soon. Not with how hunched and broken she looked, clinging to the edge of the bed, ready to fold in on herself.

“You were too slow.” His voice is much lighter despite the sleepiness that clung to it. She could practically hear the small smile, just shy of being smug. 

“Akech—”

“Did you have another nightmare?” He got his answer when he felt her stiffen. “Wanna talk about it?” He murmured against the shell of her ear, fighting off the tendrils of fatigue that wanted to lull him back to sleep.

“No,” She was quiet for a moment and he waited. “There’s nothing new to say.” Because there wasn’t, it was a reoccurring thing. Less frequent than it used to be, but there was nothing _new_ about it. She had talked his ear off in the past and even sought counseling for it. Now she was just left.. dealing with it, she supposed. 

He sighed heavily, as if that would exhale all the fatigue from his body. While it didn’t do that it at least gave him the bit of strength he needed. He sat up and grabbed her by the shoulders, laid her flat on her back and shifted to hover over her.

“What’re you—” The surprised look on her face alone was worth it, but he paid no mind. Pinned her hands against her sides and leaned down to press a kiss to her lips. Unsure if he should feel annoyed or not at how she somehow looked even _more_ surprised at the gentle show of affection. 

Then all at once he dropped on top of her and she let out a strangled _oof_. He had to resist the twitch of his lips as a smile threatened to tug onto his face. Instead, he opted to bury his face into her collar and closed his eyes, sighing again. 

“Go back to sleep,” He said, quietly. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

She shifted beneath him, her hands finding home in either his hair, as bedridden as it was, or his back. When she murmured a thanks, he gave a small, annoyed sounding grunt. And ignored the warmth in his chest when she laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like using second person but sometimes I feel like I can't convey everything I want to. Or that it ends up half-assed for whatever reason. I like third person because I feel it flows a bit better, reads nicer. But I find that people to tend to read it less because it feels more like an OC than a reader-insert. Even though this is still very much, you, my dear reader. I figured I'd give it a shot though, how do you like it?
> 
> That said I'm mMMmMm on how it came out. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it, I like it and don't?? I'm also terribad at writing anything cute and fluffy without having angst tied to it somehow, as you can see lmao. I'll keep trying though, hopefully next time.
> 
> **As always, I don't upload these for my benefit so if you like/want to read more please leave feedback.**  
> 


	5. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The least he could do was hear you out and accept you the way you accepted him. Flaws and all, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmhmhm. This was going to be longer but the second half I wrote didn't really match so it ended there.

“I love you.” 

“Pardon?” 

The admission had come as a complete surprise. He hadn’t expected her to confess, not here, not now. Not with so many people who he could see gathering to watch in his peripheral. It frustrated him that they all flocked like mindless moths to a flame. Looking for nothing but a dose of drama to fill up their mediocre lives. As if any advice or input they gave was relevant or even _good_. Half of them couldn’t handle the most _basic_ of social etiquette and couldn’t read a room if their lives depended on it. He had more respect for—

“Oh, uh. You don’t have to say anything to that, I just needed to get it off my chest.” She looked distraught. 

Akechi froze as he realized the way his face had scrunched up in distaste. Guilt hit his gut like a jackhammer when he caught the way her eyes glossed over. She swallowed, looking like a deer in headlights. He hadn’t meant—Fuck.

“No, I—”

“Actually,” He grunted, clenching his jaw when she interrupted him. 

He just wanted to say something, _anything_ to keep her from turning and running. Like he knew she was about to do, and it felt impossible to get in touch when she didn’t want it. She was something ethereal, fleeting and always just out of reach. She came and went, fluttering between this awful existence and something _better_ , holy. It explained why she only seemed to appear when he was at his lowest. Begging for the strength to go on, begging like a sinner for forgiveness in church. It was laughable. 

“Don’t say anything. Please. I need to go anyway. I have _loads_ of stuff to do.” She smiled at him, beaming bright like the sun. Untouchable and always out of reach, and his gut wrenched at the thought. 

“See ya.”

He watched as she fled, realizing only when a camera’s flash went off that his hand had been outstretched. Grasping the air where she had fled as he looked on, lost and frustrated. 

“Do. You. Mind?” His voice strained like the smile on his face. Punctuating each word at the person who thought taking his _picture_ was appropriate. He didn’t want that image going around, but it was probably too late. He pressed a gloved hand to his nose, pinching the bridge as his other clenched his briefcase tightly.

Every cell in his body screamed to move, to chase after her fleeting figure. He knew the pain he’d seen on her face. Panic, pain, maybe even betrayal because they had been through so much together. She had stuck it through with him at his _worst_ and offered a hand to guide him. Her persona fit her more than she seemed to realize, offering her hand like the North Star offered guidance to the lost. 

“Uh.. Sorry?” The person he had been glaring at shrugged, looking awkward. Akechi fought the urge to do something _violent_. 

“Yes, well. For future reference, maybe learn how privacy works before stepping outside?” He offered with a practiced smile.

He turned on his heel, taking long strides to get away before he lost it. Dismissing their existence in favor of pulling out his phone. His fingers trembled and he clenched his jaw as he scrolled for her name through his, admittedly, short list of contacts. 

_“Hi! You’ve reached—”_

He wanted to throw his phone. Into the air, smash it into the ground and grind his heel into it. Anything to get rid of the pent up feeling in his chest that felt like something had broken. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **As always, I don't upload these for my benefit so if you like/want to read more please leave feedback.**


	6. Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of Broken. 
> 
> Goro Akechi realizes that what you both have can't be broken as easily as he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Sick of You - DNMO & Sub Urban](https://youtu.be/NpTprYAPqJY)
> 
> Twofer today!! I was listening to that while writing this. It fits and doesn't lmao. It's very Akechi though, if I do say so myself. Also this is _technically_ a continuation of the last chapter, Broken. It was the second half that didn't really feel right to stick them in the same chapter so it gets its own.
> 
> Also I updated the name and story of this series to something that felt more accurate, I guess. And bc it read better to me lol.

“Ama-No-Minaka-Nushi!”

He watched, entranced and hypnotized by the way she moved. Danced out of danger at the last second and smiled all the while. Like this was another one of those dance games he found she liked to play at the arcade. Futaba for some strange reason even _encouraged_ it. Played music for her in the background that was low enough she could still hear everyone for instructions. But loud enough he saw the sway to her movements, the gentle, rhythmic bop of her head. Occasionally, annoyingly, the others wanted to listen in too and Futaba would broadcast it to _everyone_. 

He hated it because it distracted him. Because he wanted to keep the way she moved to himself. He didn’t want Ryuji making comments on how she had _nice moves_. Nor did he want Yusuke commenting that he wished he could draw her because of how graceful she was. Worst of all? _Akira_ had joined in. The two of them had come up with some ridiculous _dance_ to fight together with _._ Futaba happily encouraged it with its own set of music when the two of them pulled it off. It was nauseating.

Goro Akechi wasn’t so high and mighty that he couldn’t admit he was _jealous._ She had ignored him for the last couple days. Likely coming to terms with his supposed rejection that she wasn’t letting him fix! His chest ached and he clutched his weapon and grit his teeth.

“Crow! Pay attention!”

His gaze snapped up toward the shadow and froze. Watched as it darted toward him and felt his mind scatter in different directions. The most he did was throw his arms up to guard against the attack. 

Garbled words met his ears, and he assumed it was one of his _teammates_ that cried out for him. The word _teammate_ still felt bitter in his mouth. But to his surprise, a glimmer of light appeared in front of him at the last second. The attack aimed for him reflected, and the shadow retreated away from him as it howled in pain. 

“Nice one! Way to go—” Futaba cheered, and Akechi froze for a moment.

He glanced over, surprised, and caught the smile and subtle nod of her head. The tightness, the anger and _broken_ feeling dissipated beneath the smile she gave him. He wouldn’t tell her or anyone of the warmth and relief that bloomed in his chest. The relief that she _hadn’t_ abandoned him. 

“Ready?”

Her voice was like music to his ears as he stood straight and shook off the thoughts that had plagued him. 

“It’s about time.” He scoffed but couldn’t help the smug smile when she _beamed_ at him.

Then the two of them moved, darted into the fray of shadows with weapons drawn. Moved and slashed with familiarity and ease born from _years_ working together. And when the two of them emerged on the other side of the group of shadows, he pressed a hand to his mouth to hide a smile. He said nothing when she bumped her hip into his in tandem with the music and shadows evaporating. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **As always, I don't upload these for my benefit so if you like/want to read more please leave feedback.**


	7. Actualization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goro faces the reality that he's left for you and wonders where it all went wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HMM. The amount of editing I had to do to this because I wrote in the dark thanks to losing power from Tropical Storm Isaias. Also because it was late and I was bored and my laptop thankfully had been charged. I probably still have a bunch of tiding up to do to this but I'm tired and I fixed a majority of it lmao. Which is probably saying something if there are tons left. Sobs into my hands.
> 
> [Dead (DnB Ver.) - Normandie](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VpuIdQsY6yw).
> 
> When the Sunday morning comes, you'll be smoking like a gun, and I'm dead.

He wasn’t sure what to expect when he made his way back to the apartment he shared with you. He was thankful that Akira had been smart enough and realized that something was wrong. He felt conflicted though on whether he hoped you had noticed too. He briefly thought that maybe he should leave you in ignorant bliss. After all, he distinctly remembered dying, remembered his last breaths and most of all: his regret at being unable to say goodbye to you. There had only ever been one person he could trust.. it was why he only ever managed two personas. You had always been by his side; you had asked him not to go into Shido’s palace alone, and he had done just that and died for it. 

When the door clicked open with his key fitting perfectly, he thought that maybe in this reality you no longer lived with him. That you were back at home with your parents and brother, both of whom you had lost at a very young age. The event had pulled the two of you together, bringing you closer. What he hadn’t expected was to find you sitting at the table, by yourself. With two cups on the table as you stared off into the distance. The lingering smell of coffee remained. But told him that the full cup that sat across the table from you had been sitting there for some time. 

Your gaze instantly snapped up to meet his. He could see a myriad of expressions that flickered across your face. Before finally, after what felt like an eternity, your expression settled. Cold, unbridled fury carved into the fine lines of your face, one side of your lip twitched up in disgust. You were ready to bare your teeth in a snarl with the animosity that carried off you in waves. He’d never seen you so angry before, and his heart nearly stopped. Were you angry with him? 

_Do they even remember me?_ Fear settled into his chest even if he didn’t want to admit it. But maybe you wished for your family back and that you had never met him. The thought crossed his mind more times than he had been willing to openly admit. Maybe you wished you never met him, that maybe if you hadn’t met somehow you would still have your family. Logically he knew whether you met him or hadn’t wouldn’t change their death, but a part of him felt like a bad omen. Never good enough and that his touch caused despair. 

Maybe that’s why he’d grown so fond of wearing gloves.

“Maruki,” you started and Akechi noticed the way your nails dug into the surface of the table. “If you don’t get rid of this illusion I will sever the rest of your persona’s goddamned appendages and then it’ll be your fucking _**head**_!” You snarled and bared your teeth.

Your hands had come down on the table in a loud _bang_ as you stood up. Your limbs trembled in anger and for a moment all he could do was stare. At you, at the marks you’d dug into the table. Relief flooded him after a moment, and his shoulders slumped. 

“I see Maruki already paid you a visit, but it seems that you already know what’s going on..?” He trailed off and curiously tilted his head.

Your expression flickered again, the rage slowly dying before it disappeared like a candle that had been put out.

“Goro?”

“Who else?” He smiled thinly.

He hadn’t expected the tears though, and he froze for a moment before he moved closer. Around the table and to your side, where his hand pressed to your cheek to swipe away the stray tears. You dropped back into your seat like someone had sucked the life from you as you stared up at him, confused. He leaned back against the table and eyed you quietly.

“You.. you’re?” He knew what you were trying to say and pursed his lips and shook his head.

“No, not really. A cognition of myself with all my memories intact, though.”

You nodded with a shuddered breath and then after a pause; he watched as you broke down before him. His eyes widened, taken aback by it as he stared. Your expression crumpled into pain. A fresh wave of tears hit as you tried to hide them by burying your face into your hands. Curling into yourself by bending at the waist. You sobbed loudly, in more pain than he’d ever heard from you—you hadn’t cried like this when your parents or brother died. For once, he didn’t quite know what to do. You had always been strong, with a brave face and been one to match his stride. You never needed much comfort, you had helped build the solid foundation that your relationship both stood on. So.. what was he supposed to do when that foundation broke the way you had in front of him?

He reeled, frozen in place. Because you were crying over him? His mouth twisted in annoyance, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel that way. He was almost happy in a way. Though it seemed inappropriate and he sure as hell wasn’t about to voice that to you. He was sure you’d punch him in the gut. Like you did the last time he said something rude and uncalled for when you had been upset. Instead, he crouched down and reached for your shoulder. A gentle hand there as he rubbed circles with his thumb. But then you dropped out of the chair and lunged onto him. Throwing your weight into him and he toppled to the floor. Flat on his back, and stared at the ceiling while you sobbed into his shoulder. Wailed like he’d never heard you cry before, and his gut felt like you’d punched him, anyway. It hurt in a way he’d never felt before to hear you as distressed as you were, but you had never been this distressed before.

“I didn’t realize how important I was to you.” He laughed softly, bitterly. His hands wrapped around your waist and he hugged you tight, rubbing in circles against your lower back.

The gesture only made you cry harder.

.

.  
  


You’d refused to move from his side. It took a lot of convincing on his part to get you up and off him. So that the two of you didn’t need to lie on the floor. Instead, you both sat on the couch and you’d curled into his side. Half on his lap as you clung to his arm, just short of cutting off the circulation. When he’d joked that had didn’t plan on going anywhere, it had only upset you further. He realized, belatedly, that it probably wasn’t the best joke given the actual reality of things. So he’d shut up and you clung to his arm and rested your head on his shoulder. The two of you stared at the television that wasn’t on, but reflected you both. He could see how tense you were if he studied the reflection, but he could feel it too. He didn’t need to see you to know what you were feeling, and it pained him. He heaved a sigh when you sniffed.

“Another tissue?” He lifted his free hand to grab the box but dropped it when you shook your head no.

“Are you.. alright to talk about it now?” He questioned, cautiously. 

The last thing he wanted to do was upset again to that extent. It hurt to see, and it wouldn’t help him get any answers, either. 

“You mean,” you sniffed again, “am I okay to talk about it without punching you and getting angry?” Because you hadn’t forgotten how he ended up this way. How he ended up dead.

Akechi laughed, tossed his head back and actually laughed at the bitter joke. 

“Yes, that too.” He said after the laughter died.

He tilted his head to look at you and smiled softly. A small part of him ached when you peeked up from his shoulders and he could take in the mess that he’d caused you. The red eyes and nose, the rings under your eyes from sleepless nights. 

“I thought you said you didn’t get the nightmares anymore?” He furrowed his brows when you glanced away.

“I lied.” You glanced away from him, guilty.

“What, why?” 

You had suffered terrible nightmares for a long time. At some point you confessed that you didn’t get them when you were with him. That had eventually led to the two of you sharing a bed. Even before the two of you had become a couple. It probably led up to it. He knew because there was something about holding you in his arms that he didn’t want anyone else to have the chance to experience.

“You were so busy with cases but still tried your best to come home. I felt like I was just causing you problems. So, I lied and said they didn’t bother me so you didn’t feel pressured to come home when you were busy.” You shifted and turned yourself away from him a fraction, and he frowned.

“Truthfully, I thought you didn’t want to share a bed after you had said that.” He smiled, but it faltered when you suddenly had tears in your eyes again. The look on your face made his chest hurt, reminded him that these tears were because of him.

Goro pried his arm free so he could turn toward you and cup your face in his hands. Wiped the stray tears away because, god, those hurt to see. Had he really meant that much to you? To reduce you, of all people, the one who had carried them both, to this?

You shook your head and bit your trembling lip as you closed your eyes. Feeling the tears being wiped away by his bare hands because he always removed his gloves to touch you. 

“When was the last time you slept?” He asked, quietly.

“Through the night or in general?” You joked, but your laugh ended in a quiet sob.

“Humor me with both.”

He watched your shoulders sag as your eyes opened, but ventured anywhere but on him.

“I get about an hour a night. Sometimes two if I..” You paused and he watched the way your eyes glassed over as you stared at some random spot in the room. “If I sleep in your jacket or shirt. It smells like you, makes me think you’re here when you aren’t.”

He expected several answers, but none of them had been that. Why was it so hard for him to wrap his head around how much he meant to you? If he had seen this before, if he hadn’t been so caught up in his revenge against Shido, would he have seen it? Would he have gone that day or would he still be here with you? Would you be sleeping soundly, curled in his arms. Had he known that the nightmares still plagued you, he would have. That like all the nights before, he would wait until you were asleep first before he fell asleep. Now you seemed to sleep less than an hour.

“They’re worse,” He froze at your broken admission as you pulled on the sweatshirt — his sweatshirt, he noted absently. Fumbled with the sleeves that your fingers barely poked out of. 

“Worse?” He echoed, waiting with a slow sense of dread. What could be worse than the typical nightmare you had?

You nodded and his hands still cradled your face gently as you closed your eyes. 

“I watch you die.”

His blood turned to ice. You had always been sensitive to the cognitive side of things, and there had been speculation that mementos played a part somehow. Even if they weren’t sure how. You hadn’t witnessed your parents or your brother dying, but you relived that horrible accident every time you went to sleep. He couldn’t have imagined having to watch your parents and brother burn alive in a vehicle. Before your mind twisted the vision and made them beg for help. Help you couldn’t provide because you hadn’t been there. Then they would get angry you hadn’t saved them, hadn’t pulled them from the wreckage before the car exploded.

“You saw?” His voice is strained and you finally looked at him. 

You’re broken and he can’t fix it. That’s the first agonizing thought that hit him like a freight train. He couldn’t fix any of this, he wouldn’t be able to hold you in his arms each night to chase the nightmares away. Or assure you when you woke up that it was a dream because it wasn’t. This was your reality now and he didn’t exist in it anymore to make it better _._

“I’m sorry.” His voice felt strangely distant.

None of this had felt right when he woke up, alive. But none of it had ever felt so _wrong_ , either. He’s vacant inside, almost numb until your hands found their way on to his. The only warmth he could feel in this cold, horrific realization. He barely found the strength to meet your eyes and when he did, you lean forward and kissed him.

It’s soft and there’s a homesickness that you both feel as your lips meshed together. A growing sense of desperation until you’re in his lap. Feverishly kissing one another until you’re pulled apart, panting with your forehead pressed to his. He closed his eyes as he felt the tips of your fingers trace along his jaw, his chin and lips. His chest felt warm, but it hurt all the same when you pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. 

“You wanted to.. talk about it?” You asked quietly.

He opened his eyes and watched your expression. Watched your eyes and he could swear he could see the way you were building yourself back up, piece by piece. Pulling the foundation back together and building up the wall that let you function and he wondered why he never saw it before. How much had you sacrificed toward the end to keep the two of you together? He couldn’t bring himself to speak as he watched your eyes, watched how you closed yourself up to the world. Denied the pain to handle what was happening now and it made his chest hurt and made him angry at Maruki. You’d been grieving and then to have him brought back before you? It was sick and twisted no matter how he looked at it. 

Your break down in the dinning room had only proved that it hadn’t been the first time you had broken over his death. But this had just been ripping the wound back open. He’d never forgive him. Just like he couldn’t forgive himself for being the one that caused it.

His hand is back on your face, palm pressed to your cheek. A thousand words on his tongue, how he didn’t want you to feel you needed to be strong. That was what he was here for, wasn’t it? But he wasn’t, not anymore. Not in reality. So he swallowed the thought and dropped his hand away.

“Maruki came by, I’m assuming?” He thought back to what you had said when he walked in and you saw him.

“He did. With his ugly persona to match.” You muttered, looking away from him. Sucking in a sharp breath, you explained.

“He said he had come by to see how I was doing since he noticed I had.. dispelled his little reality quicker than anyone but couldn’t come visit right away.” 

“Did he show you your parents and brother?” 

You shook your head.

“He showed me my life as it was before you,” you swallowed, “before you passed away. I woke up one day with you holding me in the morning. It was.. surreal.”

He watched your expression, the walls he could see in your eyes and how guarded you were at the memory. The way you tried to detach yourself from the pain in the same way he did. Had you learned that from him? He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. 

“You acted like.. you accepted the Phantom Thieves had outplayed you and changed Shido’s heart before you could stop them. That they’d been in and out of his palace before you went in.”

“How did you know that any of this was fake?” 

“Because it hurt.” You confessed in a hushed whisper and dropped your head. 

“I woke up and you were fine but the ache in my chest had been so real. When I explained it, you had said it was another nightmare, but I—” You looked up at him, but your gaze was distant, you didn’t see him in front of you.

“I knew it was real. The pain had been so fresh, so agonizing. There was no way it’d been a nightmare. I had lived that pain so vividly, more than the nightmares of my family. That pain is etched in my chest and I’ll never forget.”

He glanced away, the weight of your words heavy on his shoulders. 

“It shattered after that and I was standing there alone. I thought maybe I had hallucinated it all and tried.. not to think of it, but he came to visit today. This morning. I assume because he couldn’t keep this you in check.” 

You laughed, but it was hollow as you brushed tears away from your face with your sleeve.

“He said that you and Akira would likely try to stop him and that he needed my help. He said he wasn’t good at fighting, but that if I could help him.. he could bring you back. That we would live happily again and I wouldn’t have to experience pain like this again. He’d make it go away.”

You dropped your hand from your face and plucked at the collar of his shirt, absently.

“You said no?” He was quiet, he wanted to hear it from you.

You laughed, tilted your head back and laughed, but it was the laugh of someone broken. He recognized it in himself, he’d never heard it in you though. Not until now, and that was another cold realization of many. How had he not seen any of this? He cursed how blind he’d been, by his revenge and competitive nature against the Phantom Thieves.

“Of course I said no! He can’t give me the real you, he can’t bring back the dead!” You sounded hysterical and he bit his lip, reaching for your hand that held onto the front of his shirt. 

“He didn’t use your family?”

You shook your head again and looked over his head, unseeing, into the distance.

“I don’t think.. he could see that. He only mentioned you. He remarked that he hadn’t expected me to feel so upset over your death and apologized.. He said he had difficulty with my cognition.”

“Difficulty?”

“Mhm, I could see his persona sitting beside him. That disgusting abomination as it spread its appendages all throughout our apartment. Like it was _searching_ for what it couldn’t get out of my head. So I summoned my persona and I ripped out the one heading toward our bedroom.”

He watched your expression darken. The way your lip curled in disgust, in anger. He could feel your own hand covering his own, gripped it tight as your entire form tensed, livid. 

“He didn’t think I could see it. It surprised him. I told him if he knew what was good for him, he’d get out before I ripped off his arm, instead. I told him if he ever dug around in my head, or came within ten feet of me, I’d kill him and his persona. I’d make him regret being alive.” 

Akechi felt his chest squeeze, the promise in your words because it wasn’t a mindless threat. You never doled those out. 

“You summoned your persona?” He veered the conversation, easing the dark look off of your expression as he did so. It didn’t belong there. That was something he was supposed to have. Not you.

“Mementos is merging with reality. He’s doing something.. and I’ve.. been down there searching.”

“By yourself?” His hand on yours tightened.

“Who else do I go with now?” You glanced at him, confused. The thought is a punch to the gut all over. You had always gone with _him_.

“I don’t know how he’s doing it, but I followed it down most of the way.” You glanced off to the side and his eyes flicked to your neck, to the bruise. He wondered if that had been there earlier. Before the dots connected and suddenly, with desperate urgency, he tossed you onto your back on the couch. Seized by panic and dread as he reached for your sweatshirt and ripped it off. 

“No—!” Your startled protest died the moment the sweatshirt came up and over your head before you could stop it.

Your shirt had tugged up in the motion, revealed more than he had prepared. The bruises that lined your stomach, sides, your arms were black and blue. They coated most of your skin and it made him feel nauseous as he stood there and took it all in. The gash across your hip, stitched up by yourself no less if he had to take a guess. He sunk to his knees beside the couch and stared lifelessly at the marks.

“How many times have you gone down there?” He asked in a whisper of disbelief.

You laid there and stared up at the ceiling. You hadn’t bothered to push down your shirt because it was a fruitless act to do now after he’d already seen.

“Every day, sometimes I come back and it’s been two days.” If not longer, but you’d leave the fact you crashed in the ‘safer’ areas for restless sleep. Sleep that only lasted an hour or two, if you were lucky, and passed out too hard for the nightmares to come. But they usually came no matter how tired you were.

“Why!?” His hands balled into fists and there’s fiery anger in his veins because why would you do this to yourself?

“What do you mean, why?!” Your voice rose to meet his own, staring at him in bewilderment. “You think I will let him do what he wants? To use your memory like this?! I know you wouldn’t have let him do this so I had to stop it because you aren’t here to!”

The anger evaporated and he sat back, falling to his butt as he stared at you. Watching as you slowly tugged your shirt down and sat up.

“I knew what you would have done,” you spoke slowly, quietly, with eyes downcast, “but you weren’t here to do it and I am. So I went down to do it for you.” 

He watched you as you tugged the sweatshirt back on. Careful not to upset the bandages, and he flinched when you winced at the movement. He could venture and guess at all the wounds that would have caused that pain, familiar as it was. But he found he didn’t want to. Didn’t want to think of how much pain you were in and have been in. Physically and emotionally. 

He didn’t see you move off the couch, didn’t register any of it until your arms had wrapped around his shoulders. Pulled him into an embrace and held him as tightly as you could without hurting yourself. Because he knew no matter how tight you squeezed, you could never hurt him. 

“I love you, Goro.” Your voice is a quiet whisper. But all the strength he’s ever associated with you is there, back and ready. Waiting for him to call the shots.

He broke after that. The tears in his eyes as he lifted his hands to wrap around you and clung as tightly as he could. Without aggravating the bruises he knew were there. You weren’t glass; he knew it, but oh god, he didn’t want to hurt you more than he already had. Burying his face into your shoulder, he allowed himself to cry. Because he knew you’d get up when he finished and would help him to his feet. You’d fix the broken foundation that you both stood on and you’d carry him to what he planned to do. You always had. And as your arms ran through his hair and whispered soothing words, he cried all the harder. Because he knew you always would. 

_I love you, too._

He was just sorry he hadn’t seen it sooner. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **As always, I don't upload these for my benefit so if you like/want to read more please leave feedback.**  
> 


	8. Pancakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You'd be the death of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short 'n sweet to make up for the last chapter. In both feels and how badly edited it is, lmao. I'm still out of power and it's looking like it'll be a couple days at the earliest which isn't too promising. Ugh. My friend sent me this prompt and I found it funny. If you have a prompt you think would fit our Ace detective, feel free to send it my way! ☆⌒(ゝ。∂)
> 
> No song this time.

“W-Who do I shoot?!” Your aim flicks between Goro and a clone, unsure which is real and which isn’t.

“Them!” One Goro says while thrusting his index finger toward the other copy of himself.

You frown and drag your aim to the one he’s pointing to, furrowing your brows in confusion.

“Honestly? I vote shooting both.” Ryuji supplies somewhere behind you, and you can hear a shuffle of movement and a cough on his end. Thankful someone had the sense to elbow him in the stomach for you. 

“No!” You almost jump in surprise as the Goro you’re aiming at speaks, jabbing his index finger toward his copy. “They’re lying! Remember? I love you.”

You stare at the clone for a long moment. “Say it again.”

“That I love you?” The Goro you’re aiming at tilts his head quizzically and you nod. “I love you! How—”

Your face drops in annoyance and your finger is on the trigger, pulling it before he can even finish the sentence. You watch the shadow dissolve and dissipate while straightening out. Dropping your arm and placing your free hand on your hip. You heave a sigh, looking away while pursing your lips.

“Whoa! That’s cold!” But Ryuji sounds way too amused as he comes up and claps you on the shoulder. It’s enough you jerk forward, catching yourself before you can stumble from your spot. “How d’you know!?”

The real Goro huffs. You can see the flicker of annoyance under his mask as he adjusts his gloves.

“Yes,” He asks cautiously while moving closer to the group. “Do tell, in case it happens again.” He smiles thinly, not keen on letting it happen again. But should it, it’d be best if the entire group knew-

“‘I love you’ doesn’t sound like something you’d say to me.” You say flatly. An expression to match your tone as you level your gaze on him.

Ryuji barks a laugh and has to lean on Joker to keep himself from keeling over. Joker has a very amused quirk on his lips at both you and Akechi. 

Goro, for all the years you’ve known him, looks positively _affronted_ by the accusation. His jaw has gone slightly slack and his eyes are wide. He scrambles to salvage the situation _somehow_ and save face. But his mind blanks as he stares at you and the amused quirk of your brow after a long drawn out silence. 

“Your accusation hurts—” Your name dies on his lips when you thrust your hand into his chest. Shoving him playfully with a roll of your eyes.

“Save it, you can apologize to me by learning how to cook.” Your smug smile meets his frown. He looks like someone’s ruffled his feathers and for his codename, it makes the image funnier. 

“Cooking is a delicacy and an art few can truly grasp. What would you have him cook?” Yusuke is unhelpful to Akechi’s cause as the artist saddles up beside you, smiling. 

“Pancakes.” You say lightly, a growing grin on your face as Goro Akechi _groans_. You would be the death of him, or maybe his sanity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **As always, I don't upload these for my benefit so if you like/want to read more please leave feedback.**  
> 


	9. Pillow Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are both distracted by one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the goro loving anon who's been so kind. :^)

You’d been bored all day. Goro, your lovely, wonderful boyfriend was busy studying something. Whether it was a case or exams, you weren’t sure. The two of you, surprisingly, didn’t attend the same school despite living together. So your exams had come and gone already, while Goro’s was just around the corner.

“What’re you doing?” He didn’t look up from the papers and books scattered about.

“Nothing?” Your tone comes out a question to his question.

He saw you lay down earlier and had a clear view of you sprawled out on the couch. He could see you weren’t doing anything.

“You’re staring.” He clarifies, sparing a glance your way.

“I’m not allowed to stare?” You shift to lie on your stomach, lifting one leg and swaying it back and forth, lazily. One hand dropping off the side of the couch.

“ _Why_ are you staring?” He asks with a sigh. Setting down his pencil to put his chin in his palm as he rests his elbow on the table.

You smile when he looks at you.

“I’m admiring my boyfriend, obviously.” You say matter-of-factly.

It surprises him, if the subtle widening of his eyes or pink dusting his cheeks is anything to go by.

“Oh!” You roll onto your back, shifting to get up. “Are you blushing?!”

You turn to face him just as he speaks up.

“Go back to sleep.”

The pillow comes from nowhere and smacks you square in the face. You topple down onto your back again.

“Ow!” You whine and hear him laugh, “I wasn’t even sleeping!”

“Then quit being a distraction.”

“I was answering your questionss!” Your voice comes out even whinier as you draw out the _s_.

You rip the pillow from your face with a pout, ready to protest the spousal abuse. But the complaint dies on your lips at the content smile on his face as he watches you. There’s a look of adoration on his face and it catches you off guard. You feel your face heat up.

“Oh?” He quirks a brow, “are you blushing?” His voice is teasing, throwing your words back at you.

You pull the pillow back over your face with a frustrated huff.

“Go back to studying!”

He laughs.


	10. [TW] Loophole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You'd done this a thousand times and you'd do it a thousand more if it meant you could _save_ him. He just needed to let you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ffff- This feels so messy and disorganized. My brain feels like sludge though so it's hard to really write even when I want to. Especially when I've had a migraine since last night.
> 
> **TRIGGER WARNING FOR SUICIDE**  
>  I tried to be detailed without being overly so at the act of it. But this may be a chapter some may wish to skip.
> 
> That said, I recently binged [At Infinity's End](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18756553/chapters/44494096) by _Until_Tomorrow_ and fell in love with it. I highly recommend it. It's a timeloop fic which inspired this one. I'm a sucker for timeloop because it has such delicious angst and Until_Tomorrow does such a good job. So read it! Leave comments of praise!!
> 
> I'm super inspired to do a chaptered story that features a timeloop thanks to them. This snippet wouldn't be apart of it, I don't think. This was just a messy attempt at getting the urge and feels for it out. 
> 
> What do ya'll think? Should I make a valiant attempt at a story with it? Please let me know!

_The concrete beneath ached against her bruised knees. Dark, mismatched spots of blacks, blues, and yellow lined both her arms and legs. A nasty gash crossed her hip, patched with rudimentary stitches angled awkwardly. A makeshift solution when she had no other option. The smell of blood was strong, the warmth had spread over her fingers in thick red drops. It squeezed past her fingers as she clutched the wound, a poor attempt to stem the flow with filthy hands._

_Cold steel pressed against the back of her head and a sob bubbled up as she closed her eyes. She’d fought so hard, and it still hadn’t been enough. Everything she’d done until this point, all the exercises, training, fighting shadows for this moment and she still failed._

_Why? Why was she never good enough? No matter how many times they ran through this sick game. Was it because she wasn’t the holder of the Fool's Arcana? Were the fates just against her being able to change anything?_

Fuck the fates. _She bit back another sob and lifted her free hand up to wipe the blood from her mouth. Willing her despair into_ anger, _into something she could use against the thing behind her._ I can’t give up, I promised I’d go down fighting.

_She glanced behind her, at the reaper that loomed over her shoulder, carrying her death with it. Watched as its thumb pulled the hammer pivot down and snarled when its finger pulled on the trigger._

_“PERSONA!”_

_**BANG!** _

. 

.

With a strangled gasp and a shock of pain, she woke with a start. Her hand instantly clutched the wound on her side. A sharp stab of pain followed the action and she winced. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she glanced around the room and squinted against the bright white light. 

_Hospital?_ The frantic beat of the heart monitor beside her confirmed the suspicion. Her hand pulled away from the wound on her side, peeling back blankets and a white gown to see it bandaged. It probably had been restitched too, once the doctors saw what a shoddy job she’d done. Not to mention she had used dental floss because she had nothing else on her on the time.

Confused and mildly disorientated by the change of events, she leaned back against the upright hospital bed. This had never happened before, not in the hundreds of times they’d found themselves back at the beginning. Had Ren done something different this time? She doubted he had been in mementos with her because his personas weren’t strong enough to reach the lower floors. So how—

“You’re awake.”

Ice filled her veins and she froze at the voice. _No, nonono._ Why him? She was doing this all for him, so how, why?

“Are you alright?” Goro Akechi took a seat and tilted his head as he studied her. “Well, I suppose that’s a dumb question given the state I’d found you in. Who I found you _fighting_.” The polite expression dissolved and he narrowed his eyes. 

They lapsed into silence and she stared down at her lap. Her left hand instinctively moved toward the wound on her side again, clutched it tight. The pain made her jolt but reminded her that this was real, not some fucked up dream. 

“Cat got your tongue?” Tone laced with curiosity and amusement as he watched her.

She broke. Tears blurred her vision and she bit her lip before she looked up at him. What was she supposed to say to him? That she knew him, she lost count how many times she’d chased him every time reality reset? That she was doing all of this, going further and further into mementos to _save_ him? He wouldn’t believe a word she said. He’d think her a lunatic. If it weren’t for the fact he found her in mementos and piqued his curiosity, she wouldn’t get the time of day.

Goro Akechi startled, a surprised expression on his face when she looked up at him with tears. “I’m sorry I—”

“I can’t do this again, Goro.” She whispered and watched his face as it screwed up with a myriad of different expressions.

He’d think she was insane, dismiss her as an absurd lunatic who somehow had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. But she couldn’t run in circles with him anymore, couldn’t keep pretending. She _missed_ him, her best friend, her everything. She’d been doing all of this for him, and it was by some cruel twist of _fate_ that he didn’t remember her. That he didn’t remember the friend he grew up with.

“Do we.. know each other?” 

She barked a pained, cold and detached laugh. Because if she let herself feel, then those words would be daggers into her heart. She brushed away stray tears with her palm and resisted the urge to bury her face into her knees and sob.

“Once upon a time, maybe.” She smiled bitterly at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He’d dropped the polite, ace detective front and narrowed his eyes.

“Let it go, Gor—Akechi. There are some things you’re better off not knowing. If you don’t remember, there’s probably a reason for that, right?”

He narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips.

“Hardly, I think I can decide for myself. How do we know each other?”

She laughed, “Who said we know each other, what if I’m lying? What if I’m just being disrespectful and calling you by your first name? You _are_ famous after all and so many wouldn’t pass the opportunity to be close to you.”

“Fine,” his tone was terse, “explain what you were doing in mementos, then.”

“Mementos,” she rolled the name off her tongue several times, as if testing it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t bullshit me,” he slipped up and the words and hostility that spilled from his mouth surprised even him. He had always been so careful with his choice of words, even when he was angry. Why was she getting under his skin so easily? Like an itch he couldn’t scratch and when he found her fighting that.. thing, he’d felt his heart stop. 

She’d confirmed that they knew one another, and by her slip up it was likely they’d even been on a first name basis. Something he’d never been on with anyone. But he was so meticulous about his appearance, who he let in and who he knew. 

But there was a familiarity about her. The same familiarity he felt thinking back. Memories of him by himself, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had been missing. Like he was looking at a photograph and something had been carefully blacked out. Something that was precious to him, that his chest tightened each time he tried to think back. Whatever was locked away, clawed at his chest, angry that he couldn’t remember.

She knew and had answers to this.. _homesickness._ The desperation and anxiety he felt when he absently reached for his phone to type a message. His body moved on its own, and he stared at the words _‘I’ll be home late’_ more times than he could count. But who he meant to address it to was empty. 

Preoccupied with his thoughts, he almost missed what she was about to do. _Almost._

His heart nearly seized, body moving before he could even think and process what happened. His chest ached in a way that felt like he was drowning. His hand reached out lightning quick and seized her hand. The scalpel against her neck and his eyes were wide as he panted, like the action had winded him. Anxiety and fear ripped through him, tearing beneath his skin. 

“What are you doing?!” His voice felt like a stranger. High pitched and frantic. But with his hand holding hers, he felt how cold she was. But there had been no hesitation in the act, and it made him nauseous. 

Her hand clutched the scalpel, eyes bored into his own as she fought him. He wouldn’t understand, he couldn’t understand. She’d tried to explain so many times and when he did, he would get so angry with her. If that was the case, he would say, why was she doing it alone? Why was she not seeking him out?

Her hand tugged back, the scalpel still clutched in her hand, unwavering as she tried to bring it closer to her neck. Goro could feel that he was losing, actually losing in a battle of strength to prevent her from doing the unthinkable. The blade reflected the sun into his eyes. The way it angled seemed like she had done this before. Why did that thought distress him so much? He could feel his entire body ready to give up anything and everything to keep her safe. But why?

He stood and the chair screeched heavily against the linoleum flooring. His free hand shifted above them, to the bright red button that would call the nurses. He could see her eyes as they widened, the panicked expression. She let go of the scalpel with one hand and used it to grab the sleeve of his peacoat to stop him.

“Stop it!” She hissed out, eyes narrowed as she tilted her head to look at him. Both their hands locked as they attempted to prevent the other from doing something they didn’t want. His hand clutched the scalpel she still held like iron. While her other hand clutched the sleeve of his peacoat to the point it almost felt bound to rip.

“You think I will let you do this!?” She was insane.

“Stop caring!” She hissed, whispering something beneath her breath, and he faltered. 

He could see it in her eyes, something deep within them, and the hesitation is all she needed. He felt it before his brain registered what happened. She had done it was such familiarity and practiced ease it made him sick. The scent of copper assaulted his nose. He felt his heart drop into his stomach, which _lurched_ as his brain caught up with everything. His hand slammed down on the button and took too long. Not that it would have saved her. He watched the light fade from her eyes the moment the scalpel drew across her neck. 

They’re screaming code words, asking him if he’s hurt and what had happened. He tried to explain. His voice came out small, unsure. They ushered him from the room and he could feel his world as it crashed around him while he stood outside the room. Like everything he’d been fighting for had slipped from his grasp in that instant. He didn’t even realize he'd been crying until a nurse had nudged him to another room. 

He couldn’t shake the expression, her eyes boring into his own. Something about them had screamed at him, screamed of her failure and that by slitting her throat she would achieve something. He didn’t know what, and he’d never find out now. His chest felt like it filled it with cement and he was suffocating. 

_‘I won’t fail you. I can’t.’_

Her words that made him falter, the despair laced in them. He didn’t understand, couldn’t fathom what she meant, but she was dead and all the answers had died with her. He couldn’t figure out why, but it felt like some part of him had died with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **As always, I don't upload these for my benefit so if you like/want to read more please leave feedback.**   
> 


	11. Hero Worship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprising effect from a shadow takes Akechi down nostalgia lane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This. Took. SO. LONG. //screams into the void
> 
> I don't know why I struggled as hard as I did with this one. I had a fairly clear idea of what I wanted but I wasn't entirely sure of how I wanted to end it. If I wanted to use second or third person, etc. When I first wrote the draft half of it was third then swapped to second person halfway through. Then I ended up slowing down and rewriting it. etc.etc.etc. 
> 
> I hope it's decent for all the effort it took. hsdljasada.
> 
> Oh yeah, my power is back yay. I started this the other day while it was still out but. the. struggle. Lastly, with all the positive feedback I'll be looking into writing a timeloop fic. I have some of the intro and premise typed up but I'm hoping to make the chapters relatively long so it'll be a bit.

“Huh? Oh no! Look out—”

Futaba’s knack for figuring things out moments too late is becoming a nuisance. He wonders briefly, preparing to brace for some attack, if the cat had done a better job. It’s a thought that’s backed when you’re targeted a second time, and he feels his heart drop into the pits of his stomach. Between the two of you, you were the one that attracted trouble and it seems the same rule continued to apply to shadows.

The attack hits you before he can think to move. A plume of smoke, like the makeshift smoke bombs Joker made and carried illegally, engulfs your form and drowns you out of view. A scream from you, suffocated by the smoke, is enough to trigger something animalistic in him. Something instinctively possessive.

_She’shurt.DeadGoneLeftUs._

_KILL THEM._

Akechi saw himself as someone composed, able to keep a level head despite the pressure. He could keep a false facade to hide his motives from the Phantom Thieves and lie confidently enough to pass a polygraph test. But for the hero people made him out to be, he had to have a weakness, and that weakness had always been you. His Achilles Heel, kryptonite, whatever people wanted to name it, in his dictionary those words all described you with your photo attached.

So the rage that fills him, molten hot lava that spurs and ignites his bones, is no surprise but a welcome relief. Anything was better than the potential despair that clouded his head like the smoke had consumed you. For as long as the heat, that rage that fills him up to the brink and makes him scream with rage is alive; then so are you. He doesn’t have to accept the potential reality that you’re gone.

Loki doesn’t even need to lend him a hand, the rage that covers his fear is far more potent than any berserker spell his persona could cast. He doesn’t wait either, his serrated saber is in his hand and he’s running with single-minded intent that screamed to kill. It’s not surprising that Joker is the only one that can recover and keep up. Some part of Akechi would be disappointed if the Phantom Thief leader couldn’t.

He slashes, stabs, saws and splits the shadow in two. Spurred by an insatiable anger for revenge, each action is fuel to the fire and equal part cathartic. Until there’s nothing left and he’s trembling, chest and shoulders heaving, clinging to the last remnants of his anger before the fear sets in.

“Uh oh.” Leave it to Futaba to squander the rage, like it’d been nothing more than a flickering candle.

His breath hitches and his head whips in your direction as the smoke clears. It’s only your form, tiny and trembling with wide eyes, that prevents him from strangling the navigators neck. It feels like whiplash. He’s taken back in time to when the two of you were kids. Clinging to one another and desperately trying to give the attention and affection that you both craved from an adult. That any child craved from an adult.

He doesn’t remember exactly what time it is, but he can make an educated guess if what you’re wearing is any sign. The ribbon in your hair, the one his mother had given you for your birthday. You would be six, because the small fake jewels on it still look immaculate. A far cry from just a year later when most had fallen or sullied.

The anger, the rage, everything leaves him in that instant and he feels like an empty, trembling husk. His knees hit the floor and the moment they do, his attire changes from black mask to red crow. The action catches your eye; the fear there bleeds into something else — recognition. You move like a bolt of lightning, startling everyone from their stupor. He can hear Makoto cry out, can see her reach for your form to stop you. And the possessive nature that involves anything with you rears its ugly head again. He snarls so viciously that she freezes in place, hand outstretched and watches dumbly as his arms open and you toss yourself into them.

He scoops you up into his arms. Pulls you close enough he can feel your tiny heart hammering against his shoulder as your hands fist his white jacket. You’re not glass and he knows it, but he can’t fight off how fragile you feel in his arms. How small you are and that despite it he can feel the light tremors in your form. You may not shatter physically like glass, but emotionally he wasn’t so sure. You seemed so fragile, and he wonders if this was how you really were those ten-something years ago. He remembers your solid support as a child, associating strength with you—not this fragility.

“Uh.. What the hell is going on?” Ryuji says and breaks the stupor surrounding the group.

“Oracle?” Makoto directs the question toward the navigator.

Akechi can feel the swirl of anger in the pit of his stomach. Trust the useless navigator to forget what she’s doing.

“R-Right!” Futaba snaps herself into focus, “it.. I’ve never seen this sort of effect before. That shadow was one of a kind. Kind of like a mini-boss! It doesn’t look like any of the other shadows have that ability, but..”

“But we killed the shadow, so shouldn’t the effect go away?” Haru says, sounding hopeful.

“Should but it looks like there’s a timer on it.. An hour!?” The surprise in Futaba’s voice is accompanied by a collective gasp or groan of the group.

The unison of the group makes you tense. A hiccup that holds back a sob spills past your lips, and Akechi is craning his neck to get a better glimpse of you. “It’s alright,” He whispers, attempting to soothe you.

“Great,” Ryuji sounds exasperated as he drops his head, “so we’re stuck playing babysitter until it wears off?”

The hostility that ignites Akechi rolls off him in waves. He could handle people calling him or making him out to be a nuisance with all the pleasantries in the world. But he couldn’t handle it with the calm composure when it was directed at you. The look he gives is enough to make Ryuji shiver,

“Damn dude, if looks could kill.” He says, sounding wary.

 _If only they could._ Akechi thinks bitterly, wishing that the glare would smite Skull in his spot.

“I doubt anybody would want you babysitting, Ryuji. Besides,” Morgana finally speaks up, drawing attention to themselves, “she doesn’t look like she’s going to let go of Crow any time soon.”

“As if I could trust any of you with her, anyway.” Akechi says, with all the forced pleasantries accompanied by a wintry smile. It’s enough that the group exchanges wary glances and tries, rather poorly, to laugh it off.

“We should keep moving. The sooner we find a safe spot, the sooner we can wait out that effect and keep moving.” Morgana says, taking lead.

It was the most intelligent thing anybody in the group has said thus far. It looked like the cat was the only one with functioning brain cells aside from Joker—Akechi stills. The Phantom Thief leader was absent from where he was standing moments ago to his left. He can feel your fingers curling into the shoulder pad of his uniform jacket, afraid. He turns on a dime and catches Joker crouched behind him with an odd expression.

“What are you doing?” He spits out in a hiss, “She’s afraid of clowns.”

“Ha!” Ryuji barks out somewhere behind him as Joker's shoulders slump at the insult.

.

.

Getting to a safe spot takes longer than any of them would like. But they had been well into the palace when it had happened. Though Futaba had confidently said there weren’t any other shadows that had the same ability, Akechi sorely questioned it. They were already down one member in the thick of things; they didn’t need to be surprised and down by another, or worse.

“Yanno,” Ryuji says as he watched the others take on a shadow. “How come you changed back into your Robin Hood outfit? How can you do that, anyway? Joker’s got different personas, but I never see him swap his outfit.”

Akechi only spares Ryuji a glance, watching as the blond twirls the gargantuan hammer around when he rolls his shoulder.

“Some of us actually have skill.” He replies, glancing back to the fight.

“Hey!”

Whatever indignant response Ryuji throws toward him, Akechi doesn’t pay attention to. Preoccupied by the subtle shift as you move your face away from his neck, peeking out behind him. There’s a beat before he hears your muffled giggle into his shoulder. He tries to ignore the way his heart pounds in his chest, at the sheer possessiveness of both you and the sound. Instead, he glances over to what’s caught your eye and made you laugh.

He catches the Okumura girl with a vice grip on Ryuji’s ear. Muffled whimpers as the girl scolds him for language in front of a child. Akechi knows you’ve heard the entire alphabet of foul language at this age. But it keeps Ryuji silent and amuses you, so he says nothing. It’s only Joker who notices the way he tilts his head a fraction, resting it comfortingly on you.

“We did it!” Ann cheers, thrusting open the doors to the safe spot. “And look, there’s even a window out to the front.” She thrusts the window open with the same vigor as the door, leaning out.

Akechi resists the urge to roll his eyes and held his tongue from a scathing comment.

“If we were to leave, do you think the effect would disappear?” Haru asks.

The doors close behind Futaba and she makes a face.

“It’s possible, but this has also never happened.. Morgana?” The navigators look at each other warily, shrugging their shoulders.

“I’m not.. sure.” The cat is as equally useless.

“It’s fine,” Akechi is at his limit with their idiocy, “since there’s an escape right there, I’ll stay back and wait for the effect to wear off. We’ll contact you once we’re out.” He sits himself down on a stray chair, away from the group. Whatever they mumble amongst themselves, he can’t find it in himself to care.

There’s hesitation, but eventually they all leave. It’s only when the last one is out and he can hear the footsteps fading that Akechi heaves a relieved sigh. He drops his head back and closes his eyes for a moment, almost forgetting that he was still holding you. Already accustomed to the weight. Only when you move, and his grip stiffens subconsciously, protectively, does he remember.

You lift your head up and away from his shoulder and he leans his back to get a better look with a tilt of his head. You eye him curiously, reaching up to poke at the long beak of his mask. He can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips. He lifts you up and sets you onto the table in front of him.

“Do you know who I am?” He asks.

You reach out and pull the mask off his face, and Akechi doesn’t stop you. You could drive him into ruin and he doubted he would ever stop you.

“Robin Hood!” Your voice is positively delighted and it makes Akechi laugh.

“You remember,” he murmurs, a distant and forlorn feeling accompanying the nostalgia. A year later, when you turned seven, you would be in an accident and you lost bits and pieces of your memory. You remembered your best friend Goro Akechi, something even to this day fills him with relief. But some memories you shared had been forgotten, namely Robin Hood. The two of you had loved the stories of Robin Hood as children. And at the time you had done dozens of drawings of your favorite hero. The white and red outfit, the red mask that you recently pulled from his face. All of it had been of your design, even the persona he wields bore an unmistakable likeness to the hero you had drawn.

Sometimes when the two of you went down into mementos, he would wield Robin Hood and wear this particular outfit. You would always send him a curious look, but unlike your younger self, there was never any recognition. He had mixed feelings about it. On one hand, it didn’t matter if you did, and on the other.. when Futaba had said that Robin Hood reflected his lies, he had been so angry. If Joker’s personas reflected the bonds with his friends, then Akechi was positive that Robin Hood had reflected his bond with you. He had wanted to bring your hero to life, and he had succeeded. It was only bittersweet because you didn’t remember.

“Robin Hood is sad?” Your voice breaks him from the thoughts, and he lifts his gaze to your curious one.

“Were you scared back there?” He asks, switching gears and smiling softly. There’s no forced pleasantry around you even as a child, and he’s relieved by it.

“Mm.. no.” You shake your head after thinking it over. “I can’t be!”

“Oh?” He raises a brow as he rests his chin on his palm, his elbow beside you. “Why’s that?”

“Because!” You start off proud but it’s wiped away just as quick and you look like you’ve taken a punch to the gut. He furrows his brows, concerned, and sits straighter. “Because my best friend is sad and scared. His mommy recently passed away and he’s scared, so I promised I’d be brave so he doesn’t have to be.”

“What’s your best friend’s name?” His voice cracks a bit.

“Goro Akechi.” You reply, fumbling with the mask in your hands.

“Did he ask you to be brave for him?” He never wanted you to carry that weight, but this was the pillar of strength he remembered as a child.

“Mm.. no. But I want to be!”

“Why?” He feels like he’s drowning.

“Because I love him! My mommy once said you do things without being asked to when you love someone. He’s really sad now, I know what it’s like losing your mommy.. so I’ll be brave for him!” Akechi makes a strangled noise from the back of his throat, pulling you closer and pressing his forehead to yours. You hadn’t remembered Robin Hood after the accident a year later, but you remembered him and your desire to be strong for him.

He feels something pointed press against his cheek, instinctively his mind thinks it’s a weapon with how sharp. But the small, “Boop.” that accompanies it, with your same tiny voice, eases him and he cracks an eye open. Meeting your smile with a more subdued one, and he glances at the nose of his mask that you’ve poked his cheek with.

“Don’t you need your mask?” You tilt your head.

“I do,” he says, shifting back a bit. “Can you help me put it on?”

You nod eagerly and he smiles, closing his eyes and feeling the mask press back onto his face. When he opens them, he’s surprised and it shows on his face when he meets the older you. Present you, sitting on the table holding his mask in place. The effect wore off and his heart hammers in his chest at the smile you give him. Of the adoration in your eyes that’s reserved for him and only him.

“You’re back,” he murmurs.

“Thanks to my hero.” You say, pulling the mask away from his face and his eyes light up at your smile.


	12. [WG] Sorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WG = WIP Graveyard. Incomplete or wips that I don't call actual chapters. Feel free to skip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even going to say this an actual chapter lmao, I really dislike how they turned out. I say 'they' because I wrote it twice and dumped it all in one. They're separated so you can tell the two apart.
> 
> Idk. I'm not super happy with my writing the last couple chapters and unfortunately I don't have anyone to a) talk about it with and share ideas to and b) beta it and offer improvements. None of my friends who read fic have played persona or vice versa which leaves me sort of.. struggling to find a happy medium. 
> 
> It's not so much writers block but not sure the angle I want to go with? Using reader-insert has its liberties and are nice to read but I feel like that comes at the sacrifice of (for me, anyway) making the 'reader' rather generic so everyone can fill in the shoes. As someone who's best at writing emotion and channeling that through a character, this is hard and not ideal for my writing style. 
> 
> SO I tried to make both these emotional and try out a different writing style. I think I failed on both fronts hence why I'm not even calling these actual chapters. Uploading them though in case someone does enjoy reading them and mostly so I have all my Goro fics uploaded in one spot. 
> 
> Feel free to skip this~

She breathes in and it’s like the world is falling apart. Snapshots, slideshows, things that could be or would be, slipping through the gaps between her fingers. A moment, a memory that make up the drops of water that slip away no matter how hard she tries. He barrels toward his death, burning the bridge between the two of them along the way. 

Everything.  _ Everything  _ burns in the wake of his breakdown. It’s far from beautiful, but it’s bright and destructive. He is far more like her persona than she was, chasing after his trail. Bright like a star but he was burning alive and the destruction of a star was so quick but the devastation so great. He would blaze himself out and there would be no glory at the end. 

Despite what he said, she was chasing after him. Picking up the ashes and pieces of the bridge, he tried to burn and she would make him build it back up. Or she would die trying. But it would be her that died, not him. Because the world still yearned for the detective prince of plastered smiles and fake pleasantries. But her? She was a backdrop, a prop piece, a wallflower with no name. The world didn’t need her like it needed him. Like the Phantom Thieves needed him. It hurt that for everything she said and all the comfort she provided, he never believed a word. 

Her calves burn as much as her lungs do, each breath is agonizing as the step to take it is. But her feet move her faster and faster, further down the maze. It had been the streets of Shibuya down to the passageways of Shido’s palace. Down, down,  _ down. _

Her knee gives and takes the full brunt of the fall when she skids to the floor. Her lungs attempt to catch up with her pace, heaving in air like she’s been suffocating. Her persona comes to life in front of a shadow that tries to take an opportunity for her life, the sword of stardust cleaves through it easily. It can maim an enemy, but for all its power it can’t heal a shattered kneecap. An old wound and parting gift from Shido years ago that Goro never forgave. Tacked it onto the sins he had planned to make him pay for.

The pain is blinding, but her chest hurts more. The things he said, the anger in them ripping and lighting the life they built before her eyes. So she bites her lip, pulls herself to her feet and leans on her left. It hurts, and she’ll never walk again properly if she does this. But she doesn’t think that it matters because she didn’t think she was leaving alive. She tastes blood from biting her lip too hard, but she doesn’t stop. She lifts her leg up and forces it to bear her weight one step at a time.

She’s crying by the time she slides down the ventilation shaft, and she tries to stifle the scream by biting her knuckle when she breaks through the grate. She lands a floor down and she knows that she’s not getting up. But he’s there, slumped against the metal partition, bloody and bruised, but he’s alive. She’s never been more relieved in the wake of so much pain and knowing she was about to die.

When he sees her, he forgets his pain and pulls himself to his feet, only to drop onto his knees at her side. 

“Why are you here?!” There’s something in the tone of his voice but there isn’t time to figure it out.

There are so many things she wants to say and do, but she is still so angry. Bitter resentment fills her mouth and tastes like blood. Her hand hits his cheek and knocks him back onto his butt, he’s surprised and speechless.

“The palace is collapsing!” He tries to find the anger but there is none, just panic. She wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Why do you think I’m here?!” She snarls in response, digging her nails into the grate beneath them. “You think I’m going to let you die? You keep saying nobody needs you, but the world needs you!”

Her persona comes to life behind him, grabbing onto him, and its arms become the shackles that hold him in place. He doesn’t need to be a detective to realize what she’s about to do.

“But I need you!” He’s desperate, he doesn’t want to leave her behind. She doesn’t need to sink for his sins. A small part of him screams, possessive rage lashing out. 

“Loki!” He’s desperate to get her persona off of him so he can save her.

“Wormhole!” She’s desperate to get him out alive.

The sword of Loki’s attack hits the metal grate as her persona melts, warping and bending through space. Pulling Goro with it back to the entrance. Its attack misses and it straightens and looks at her, unmoving. Maybe it was questioning her, or maybe she was going insane thinking there was something on that face when there wasn’t. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” She snaps, furious with tears as she clutches the metal grate beneath her. Another explosion tosses her away and the pain is far more than it should be. But she can’t move her leg, and she’s too tired to try. “Here.” 

She holds her hand out and surprisingly it opens its own, letting the object she’s clutching fall into its hand.

“Return that to its owner.” She’s bitter because it didn’t have to end this way. She didn’t have to die, but she couldn’t let him either. Because for all her anger and resentment now she knew when it was nothing but flickering embers she would have regretted it.

“He’s a dumbass, but I loved him. Now get out of my sight and leave me alone.” She snaps, and Loki disappears back to its owner.

She cries after pulling herself into a ball and buries her face into her hands and lets herself scream and wail. Nobody can hear her agony over the sound of her death, anyway.

* * *

  
  


“ _ Ama-No-Minaka-Nushi!” _

The ground beneath him pulses with life, illuminates the room in shades of white and gold. Breathing life where it had begun to suffocate and ready him for his deathbed. He wants to drown in the heat of your persona as it rises like the sun. Shields him from the bullet his cognitive self had carved his name into. 

And then there’s you and Goro Akechi swears that your persona has ripped open the gates to heaven. Pulling them from their hinges so that you could fall from grace and land at his feet. With a sad smile that contrasts the warmth of your embrace. 

“I made it,” Heaven speaks through you and drowns out the world with his sob. 

He’s never been one to pray but he’d get on his knees and sing your name. Relief like he’s never known cracks the careful lies he’s built around himself. Shattering in the same instant the room darkens. When the sun’s eclipsed by the moon as the gyroscope in the hands of your persona rotates.

Relief doesn’t last because to fall from heaven means you’ve paid a price. One that Goro doesn’t realize until your arms are replaced by your persona. He sinks, down, down,  _ down,  _ and he’s sure it’s to hell. 

Goro doesn’t sing your name in praises, but screams it in pleas. He knows what you’re doing and that he can’t escape the iron shackles of your persona’s embrace but he fights it anyway. Screams your name until he’s hoarse, until blood fills his mouth and he’ll never speak the same again. But it doesn’t matter because if it's not you or your name he doesn't want to speak it at all.

The underworld shifts, the darkness that he sank into breaks open. Reveals the other side of the metal partition where the Phantom Thieves lie in wait. Their relief makes him angry but the heat of it is gone in the instant a bullet rips through his scream and silences yours. Your persona bursts into stardust and he knows he’s been sent to hell. There’s no time to grieve and life leaves him the instant his world goes dark. 

He wakes to the white of a hospital, alone despite the group that crowds around him. Hollow and empty like your grave would be with your body lost when the palace was destroyed.


	13. Surname

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You didn't have a surname so Goro kindly offered you his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some more fluff, you can thank goro loving anon for inspiring this. :^)

“Hey, uh, Akechi.. san?” The name falls off awkwardly and comes out more like a question as Ryuji shifts in his seat. The group that’s scattered about look up from what they’re doing to give him odd looks.

“Hm?” You don’t look up. Twirling the pen around your fingers while your other props your chin up. 

“How did you get the last name Akechi? Are you two related? You don’t look related.” But maybe they were cousins? He scratches his head and makes a face.

Ann, who’s behind him, nearly hisses in her seat. “Ryuji! You can’t just ask that!” Especially since, while everyone was on good terms, it wasn’t like you were relatively close to the Phantom Thieves. You were still new, as it’d only been a couple weeks at the most since you and Goro Akechi joined the group. 

“What? You can’t tell me that you haven’t been dying to know! I’ve been wanting to ask, but every time I approach he gives me this _look_ ,” Ryuji shivers, “And.. I usually lose the nerve after.” He drops his head in defeat.

“But look, if it’s personal I’m sorry I don’t mean to pry. I was just kind of curious.. yanno?” He looks at you, your expression is unreadable and he isn’t sure how he should continue, so he trails off. “Where is he anyway?”

“Goro?” You echo aloud, raising a brow, “he’s got an interview today so he won’t be coming.” You check your phone, tapping the screen. 

It comes to life, lighting up at your touch, and the picture on the background is of you and Goro several years ago. Before he became the Prince Detective, consuming case after case and swamped with studies. You both had taken time before school to go to an amusement park. You had, somehow, convinced him to wear the cute headpiece of giant fox ears. It was the park’s mascot and you had won it at one stall. But maybe it was less convincing and more surprising him by shoving it on his head and taking a photo if the expression was anything to go by.

“It should be on in about five minutes,” You reply before looking back down at the homework spread out in front of you. “And regarding the last name thing.. Goro and I grew up together. I.. I actually didn’t have a surname.”

“You didn’t have a surname? How’s that possible?” Ryuji looks surprised, though his question can come off rude, you know he doesn’t mean it that way. Ann, on the other hand, literally reels around in her seat to hiss in his ear and slam her hand on his head to make him bow in apology.

You wave off the comical scene with a hand and quirk of your lips, “I was passed around a lot after I was born. Whether they were my family or not I can’t really say, but eventually child services caught wind of it and took me. I met Goro and his mom shortly after that. She couldn’t afford to adopt me, but she invited me over all the time since I was one of his few friends.” 

One of the few kids who didn’t make fun of him. Children were honest to a fault and their remarks about Goro’s mother often spurred him when he was young. He didn’t make many friends, if any, after you.

“After..” You trailed off, almost dropping your pen. Goro’s mother wasn’t your place to talk about, but it was difficult to talk about the shared surname otherwise. “Anyway, there was no real legal requirement to have a last name to attend school. Awkward as it was for a lot of people to call me by my first name. It wasn’t until around.. four years ago? 

“I was already living with Goro at the time. I’d been complaining because the school was making another fuss about having to use my given name. I didn’t see a huge deal out of it because well.. other countries call others by their first name and it’s not meant to be disrespectful, right? It was the only name I had, so what else were they going to call me? Goro actually suggested taking on his surname. Said it’d end the fuss and he’d be happy to share the name.”

You shrug nonchalantly, thanking Ren for the coffee he set beside you before he wandered back off. The low drone of the TV filled the silence as Ryuji and the rest of the group mulled over what you had told them.

“So.. that’s it?” Ryuji finally asks. His eyes are flicking from you to the TV as if something interesting has caught his eye. You dismiss it, it’s not the first time some woman has appeared on TV and distracted him from the conversation. Ann heaves a sigh and Makoto shakes her head from the seat across from her and you smile into your cup. 

“That’s it. Sorry, were you guys expecting something else?” The cup clinks against the porcelain tray, snapping Ryuji from his stupor.

“No! It’s just, uh,” He finally points to the TV over your shoulder, tucked into Le Blanc’s corner. “That’s not what he’s saying.”

“That’s not what who’s saying..?” You furrow your brow, looking over your shoulder just as Ren turns up the volume on the TV.

_“Oh, so this girl you’re often seen with isn’t a relative?”_

_“No, not at all.”_ Goro smiles politely, glancing behind him at a screen that showed a paparazzi photo of the two of you. His romantic life came up often, and he normally steered it away without having to answer with just a few witty words. 

_“She’s my girlfriend,”_ He says it with such conviction that you share the same amount of surprise as the rest of the Phantom Thieves. Who, all by your surprised gasp, turn to look at you in confusion.

_“We’ve been together for.. oh gosh, over five years now.”_

_“You’re so young and to be married! Everyone was sure that the Prince Detective was single!”_

_“Oh, no, we’re not married. Just dating.”_ The chorus of cheers and boos makes Goro laugh. _“Sorry to disappoint some of my fans, though I appreciate them and their support. While it’s not my story to tell, I can say that when I asked her out instead of a promise ring, I offered my last name.”_

The chorus of boos erupts into cheers and other reactions, all positive. Goro is either really blushing or feigning a blush as he adjusts his glove. A telltale habit you know when he’s feigning modesty and trying to look humble. But you aren’t so sure now, because he certainly never brought this up to you. And he always kept you in the loop less the paparazzi caught you off guard and dragged your names through the dirt.

The rest of the interview falls on deaf ears. Drowned out by the rapid beating of your heart as you slide back into your seat, facing forward. The Phantom Thieves have gathered behind you, watching your expression and the interview with rapt interest. You clear your throat, feeling your face heat up.

“I uhm,” Ryuji’s slowly beginning to smile, “I don’t—” Makoto seems to have come to some sort of conclusion of her own and Futaba is looking downright _devilish_ from her spot at the counter. “I swear I didn’t—it’s news to me!” You can’t bring yourself to look up and you suddenly wish the ground would swallow you up.

“Are you sure that Akechi-kun hadn’t given you it with romantic interest in mind?” Haru smiles at you, trying to clear the air and diffuse doubts of the group without being overly obvious. You appreciate it, but you still wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole. 

“H-Honest! I had the exact same sort of response when he first offered it, and you know Goro—he’s blunt when he wants to be. He said there were no romantic ties, it was just.. to you know.. make my life easier, so I didn’t have to keep fighting the school system and..”… And Ryuji and Futaba aren’t buying it. Their growing smiles make you sink further into your seat. Your face feels as hot as the coffee steaming from your forgotten cup.

“A-Anyway, look at the time I should—” You fumble, grabbing your bag and literally sweeping everything that’s yours off the table and into it in one motion. Organization be damned, if the ground wasn’t willing to swallow you up then you were abandoning ship. No shame. “I have to go, thanksforthecoffeeRenbye!” The door jingles and the door slams shut, your goodbye nearly cut off by it as they watch you disappear. 

What was he thinking? Your thoughts reel and you can only think about getting home before the interview ends. You really didn’t want to be caught by any of his fans now that they broadcast your face all over TV. It had been before, but never with the title _Goro Akechi’s Girlfriend_ attached to it.

The anxious energy fuels your steps all the way home. You feel slightly paranoid when people give you weird looks, maybe they had seen — or maybe if you didn’t look like you were fleeing for your life. Any of the two, really. You chalked it up to the former though, people should be used to your anxious antics by now to dismiss the latter. 

The apartment door clicks shut and you press your back to it, resisting the urge to slide to your butt and sit there. He’d be home in a couple hours, he could explain then—

You feel your face heat up. Oh god, what if it was a joke or publicity stunt? You were blushing to the moon and back. _Shower, shower, shower first, think later. Much later. Later as in never._ You would forget and things would return to normal, and you wouldn’t have all this anxious energy and hope that potentially, Goro Akechi, who you’ve lived with and had a one-sided crush on for as long as you’ve known him, returns your feelings. You never expected him to, never even breathed a hint of your crush in his direction. You value your friendship far, far, _far_ too much to potentially jeopardize it with unnecessary feelings.

“Shower, dinner, homework.” Since the floor hadn’t been kind enough to swallow you up and the Phantom Thieves and their stupid smug faces had you fleeing. You hadn’t finished your stupid homework. _“Ughhh!”_ You groan aloud, pressing your face to your hands before marching off to the bathroom. 

The shower had cooled your nerves, somewhat, not really. You lied. Not at all. But you made dinner, and now the object of your affections and all this confusion sat across the table from you eating while you try to finish your homework. The keyword is _try_ because for once in his life, Goro Akechi did not _shut up_.

“And—are you listening?” Goro cuts off his story and in your peripheral you see his hands set back down near his empty plate.

“I’m listening!” You don’t look up though and resist the urge to drum your pen on the table. It wasn’t enough that your leg was bouncing beneath the table rapidly. 

He doesn’t continue and it prompts, no— _forces_ you to glance up. He’s eyeing you curiously, like he does when he’s thinking about how to solve a particularly complex puzzle. His hands even go to his chin in thought and he glances away, thankfully relieving you of direct eye contact. You watch him, trying to look like you’re interested in.. whatever his story had been about. Something about someone? You think. 

His eyes snap back to you and prompts a startled noise from the back of your throat as you instantly drop your gaze down to your paper. The heat is blooming on your face again and you can’t bring yourself to meet his eyes _goddamnit_.

“So you _can’t_ look at me,” you drum your pen on the table now, annoyed he figured it out. “Why is that?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Goro.” Except you do, and you’re lying so poorly that your voice is coming out as an embarrassed squeak. Several pitches higher and there’s no justifying it. 

“Does it have to do with the interview?”

 ** _“No!”_** _Ah,_ you feel yourself die a little inside. You couldn’t have made it any more obvious if you lit up a neon sign that said otherwise. You would have to apologize to Ann for making fun of her bad acting. You now know what it’s like to try and act on the spot.

Goro gets up and you pray it’s to put his plate away and go off to do something else. Anything else. But God’s never considered you one of his favorites, if anything he made you specifically to tune in when he needed a good laugh because Goro rounds the table to your side.

“Look at me?” It’s quiet and you make a pitiful noise, trying to come up with a last ditch effort to spare your dignity.

“I’m.. busy, Goro. Homework?” Your voice is pathetically weak and it comes out a question. As if you’re asking him if he buys your excuse.

“Ah yes, the same homework and problem since you started a half hour ago.” 

Oh god damn him and his observation skills! He wasn’t supposed to use them on you. He was supposed to stop being a detective when he came through the door. Those were the _rules_. “You’re breaking the rules,” You mutter miserably, sinking further into your seat.

Goro chuckles and places a hand on the back of your seat, and the other plucks the rapidly drumming pen from your hand. He sets it aside and then sets his hand down next to yours and leans over you to look at the problem. 

Do you think if you sunk far enough in your chair you could just slip under the table and scramble toward the spare bedroom? Or the bathroom. Or you know what? The emergency exit sounds fabulous, it’s cold out and it’s just what you need. Freedom in freezing temperatures sounds perfect.

“Do you need help?” His voice reminds you of silk as it comes out in a quiet hum.

It’s also enough to remind you that the first few problems are stupidly easy, you’ve just been far too distracted to do them. You didn’t need him thinking you were stupid, so panic fuels your movements and you spring up in your chair and toss your upper half over the papers. Goro jolts back, avoiding the crash course of your head into his chin, and watches as you cover the papers with your hands, burying your face into your arms.

“I’m taking a nap.” 

“At the table?” You don’t miss the way he sounds equal parts amused and confused.

“Yes.” 

“That’s not—”

“Night!” You cut him off, burying your face into your arms even further, wondering how difficult it’d be to attempt to kill yourself with a pen. 

Goro stands there and tilts his head at you. With your face buried you miss the amused smile on his as he relents. Letting you have a few moments of peace while he cleans up his dish and takes a shower. 

When he comes out, he had fully expected to see the living room empty and you hiding elsewhere in the apartment. But to his pleasant surprise you were intent to finish your homework and whatever else you were working on, as you were now scribbling away at the paper. 

You probably had intended to finish one or two problems and then board yourself up somewhere. But he also knew how quickly you lost track of time when you focused, and so he slips into his pajamas and stands at the door to the bedroom you shared.

“Alright, time’s up.” He says and it startles you. You snap your head up and immediately regret it, slinking back into your chair. He can hear you groan under your breath as you put your hands to your face. 

_“I fucking lost track of time.”_ He hears you hiss under your breath and he knows he hit the mark. You’d meant to finish one or two problems and hide away.

“You can—”

“Nope,” He cuts you off and you don’t look at him, too busy wallowing in your own stupidity with your hands on your face. But you can hear the smile in his tone. “I’m exhausted, please don’t make me wait.”

Oh, that loser knew just what to say and you hated him for it. Because now you felt guilty. Curses, curse him, curse you and curse the ground for refusing to open up and swallow you. 

“Alright, alright!” You whine, shoving yourself from the table and meandering toward the bathroom.

“I’ll be right in.” Content with that promise, he flicks the living room light off and shuts the bedroom door.

It’s only about five minutes later before you open up the bathroom door to the bedroom. Flicking off the light and ignoring the awkward energy that encourages you to stand in the doorway and fidget like a nervous wreck. You’re thankful he’s decided not to read tonight, and so the lights are off and hide your mortifying blush as you crawl into bed with him. 

_It’s nothing new, nothing new._ You chant to yourself, shifting until you’re comfortable. _Noth-INGohgodwhy._

His arms slip around you from behind once he seems satisfied that you aren’t still trying to get comfortable. Pulling you back against his chest and you can feel his breath near your ear. 

“So what did you think?” His voice is quiet.

“This is mean,” you whine softly, ignoring his question.

He chuckles and his breath tickles against your skin, drawing goosebumps. His hands shift around your waist, hugging you close as he buries his face into you. For a heart stopping moment you feel his lips against your shoulder, one chaste kiss after the other. His hands finding their way up to grab onto yours and loosely hold them.

“Did you..” You swallow, feeling very small, but Goro doesn’t pause the soft kisses, only humming in question for you to continue. “Did you mean it when you said that’s why you offered me your last name?” Your voice raises an octave and Goro chuckles against you. 

“If I said yes, what would you say?”

“I’d say that either you were lying then or you’re lying now.” 

He hums one last kiss to your shoulder and keeps his lips pressed there, murmuring against your skin as he speaks, “I lied back then.” 

He comes clean so easy you don’t resist the urge to elbow him in the gut when it comes. He laughs against you and catches your arms before you can, so you pout and glare at the wall instead.

“I did give you my surname for one of several reasons,” He continues, unfazed. 

“One of several?” You echo a little in disbelief.

“Yes, one was so the school would stop pestering you. The other was I knew if you and I shared a surname, most people would get the idea that we were dating. Or that we were related and that would prevent most of the guys from pursuing you.” 

You make an indignant noise and he prevents you from elbowing him, again.

“You sneaky sonuvabi—”

“You should know I’m always thinking of how to get what I want out of arrangements.” He grins into your shoulder.

You’re too frustratingly embarrassed to respond, but there’s a warmth in your chest that you can’t get rid of no matter how hard you try to squash it. You're also not sure you want to.

“So what do you say?” He nuzzles his nose against you, and you’re weak.

“To..?” You pout and though he can’t see it, he can hear it. 

“Being with me, of course.” So nonchalant, if you weren’t on cloud nine, you’d roll over and smack him with your pillow and try to suffocate him under the blankets. 

“You’ve already broken all the rules of the house today, so you may as well just continue since you already know don’t you, Mr. Detective?” He wasn’t _allowed_ to use his detective skills on you, and yet here he was. He was also being insufferable, which was another rule he wasn’t allowed to be. Only you could be insufferable. 

“I want to hear you say it.” His tone leaves no room for argument, so you groan and whine loudly, feeling your face heat up as he laughs.

“I would love to be with you, Goro Akechi. Satisfied?” Because you were embarrassed beyond belief, but you can’t find it in yourself to be mad or even remotely upset. In fact, you were downright _giddy_ when he tugs you close and presses a kiss against your shoulder again.

“Immensely.” He hugs you close from behind. 

There’s a beat of silence, another kiss to your shoulder before Goro speaks up again, this time sounding confused. “By the way, what _are_ the rules of the house?”


End file.
